Burn Notice: Season Seven Songbook
by Jedi Skysinger
Summary: A series of lyrically enhanced vignettes covering the many missing moments as well as the events of Season Seven from just before 7.01 "New Deal" through 7.13 "Reckoning" in the hopes that setting Season Seven to music might make it less painful and hopefully present a more cohesive story than they were able to show on screen. Full credit given to all the talented artists involved.
1. Drown In You

_**A/N**_ _: Welcome to Season Seven Songbook, where we find out if setting Season Seven to music helps make it less painful… Probably not possible, but I hope to help have it make more sense by filling in the gaps in and in between the episodes. A huge shout out to my fabulous writing partner, the incredible Purdy's Pal, for all her help with coming up with the backstories and explanations for everything Matt Nix left out of Season 7._

 _Speaking of Mr. Nix, this is all his utterly wonderful creation and I don't own any of it. This is strictly for entertainment and I hope you are all entertained. Thank you for helping to keep Burn Notice alive here on the pages of BN Fan Fiction. Likewise, I don't own "Drown in You" by the amazing Chris Daughtry._

 _This story is set before Michael sees Burke in the bar nine months after his capture. It is set after the events detailed in "While Fiona Sleeps" Chapters 9 and then 7 respectively. I know I wrote them out of order, tis what it is. Each chapter this coming week covers what our heroes were doing prior to S7 opener._

 _And so we begin with Michael one month before 7.01 "New Deal"…_

 _"_ _Drown In You_ _"_

 _He just can't stand it._

 _It's hot, it's humid, he's beat up all the time and nothing every really stops hurting despite the booze…_

 _But really the worst part is it's too damned much like growing up in Miami._

As he took the money for the car he'd stolen so he could pay the rent on the wreck of an apartment he's hiding out in on the second story of that rundown building, all Michael Westen can think about all the cars he has stolen over the years before he ever became a spy: _because his Dad taught him to, because his mom needed a ride when Dad was off on a bender, because he needed transportation… because he needed the money…because he just wanted to go for a joy ride… because he needed a place to sleep…_

Shoving the crumpled bills into his cruddy jeans, he walked slowly back towards his bolt hole in the predawn darkness. He thought about the other things he'd done back in the day to have a place to sleep, which led to thinking about Jennifer, the first person who'd made him feel loved and the first girl he'd betrayed, followed by memories all the other females he'd taken to bed in his Miami days to kill the pain.

Then there's the woman he'd just had sex with… _except he can't remember anything about her…_ and all he can recall is the feeling of desperation and need that had overcome him, _feelings the alcohol couldn't numb, the want to just not ache anymore, even just for a few moments…_ and he'd gotten into her car…

So, now he'd _come_ full circle, getting laid in the back of a car half dressed like he was a teenager again.

 _It makes him sick to think about it._

 _And he can't remember the last time he wanted a shower more than a drink…_

The stairs seemed to get longer every time he climbed them, the room danker, his _new_ life darker…

 _Gonna have to do laundry_ he decided as he stripped out of his clothes and let the tepid water run over his bruised and battered frame. _Cracked ribs are finally healing…Lucky I didn't end up with a punctured lung and bleed out internally…_ or maybe that's what he deserved since he's torched his life _…_.

 _~~There's a place where you can light the fire and watch it burn~~_

Wrapped in a towel, he chewed on the cold tostones he'd picked up from a street vendor the day before and washed them down with the Macorix 8 Años he'd scored for winning a spectacularly fierce fight for one of the bar owners. He needed something on his stomach to soak up the liquor. It would be a shame to lose such fine booze and he wasn't really in the mood to sleep on the bathroom floor again.

 _~~Lay it down and lose it all~~  
_

The sun was starting to stream into all the cracks in the blinds and he wanted nothing more than to get enough of the hot amber liquid down his throat so he might be able to get some sleep. His hair's still wet and he's half dressed, but he just can't shake feeling dirty, soiled by everything that's touched him.

 _~~It's taken me so far beyond the point of no return~~  
_

He flopped down in the bed, the rickety old frame squeaking in protest, and he stared at the crumbling ceiling, raising his head only to drink from the fancy brown bottle. _A deep cover job changes you in a way that's hard to describe. It creeps into your soul after a while._ Another long pull that promises to make him comfortably numb slides down his throat. After more than twenty years in clandestine services, there were only two times he could think of where the job had gotten to him because of who he'd been with.

 _~~Gave all that I had when hope is gone_

 _(Hope is gone)~~_

But he refused to think about his angel right now because after what he'd just done, _it hurt too damned much_ and that particular devil had been renting too much space in his head lately as the nightly fights are getting harder and more brutal. _He hadn't had a choice not really; he did what he had to do to save her._

He closed his eyes, but it didn't help. All his regrets were waiting there behind his eyelids to torment him.

 _~~Is this real? Or is it just another crazy dream?  
_

He'd learned to shut it all off as a kid, _why couldn't he do that now?_ Maybe he'd find the answer at the bottom of the bottle. It's the only thing he's got to work with right now until time to go pound the hell outta someone… _then when he's aching more on the outside than the inside, maybe it'll hurt a little less_.

 _~~ That someday soon will fade away~~  
_

" _How's that working for ya, bro?"_

"Nate…?" He doesn't bother to open his eyes. The longer he's been drinking in the DR, the more often his brother has been stopping by for visits. _Not sure anymore if Nate really isn't there from the other side_.

" _I tried to tell ya, Mike. No one can make you stop—not until you're ready. And you weren't ready. Hey, I know, I get it. I tried to let the life go, but it don't always let go of you, does it, bro?"_

And all his perfectly logical reasons, all his _justifications_ , all his _obsessions_ that brought him to this place crashed together in his besotted brain. _But if Bly hadn't, if Card hadn't, if Anson hadn't, if Larry hadn't…_

Oh, but if only _he_ hadn't…

 _~~Feels just like I'm under water and can barely breathe  
Dying in the bed that I have made~~  
_

He swilled a little too much a little too fast and it choked him, making his ears, nose and throat burn, bringing tears to his bloodshot eyes, as if he needed another reason for the moisture to gather there.

 _~~I don't wanna drown in you  
I'm sinking, then I'm torn in two~~  
_

" _You were always just as addicted as the rest of us, Mike, admit it. You were as much an adrenaline junkie as Dad was a booze hound. You gave mom shit for smoking and popping pills, but you were just as bad, man. You loved living on the edge, loved the feel of your finger on a trigger. You had chances to let it go, but you couldn't. Now, you've made as big a mess of your life as I ever did mine, bro."_

 _~~So when you see me come up for air  
Don't try to hold me down, just save me now~~  
_

" _How's it feel, Mike? How's it feel to know you had it all and you let it get away cuz you couldn't let go?"_

 _~~Don't let me drown in you  
(Don't let me drown in you)~~  
_

He doesn't answer his brother's voice in his head. _There are no words for this…_ since the day he figured out that he had been played by the Company, that the CIA had sent him down here to die or be killed.

 _When you work in intelligence, the worst feeling in the world is knowing nothing -being caught up in something you don't begin to understand. Because it's not the enemy you see that gets you. It's the ones sitting behind desks making decisions based on greed or self-interest that kill with the stroke of a pen._

 _~~City pulls me in closer than I've ever been~~  
_

He had been accustomed to either having a long leash or no leash at all once he had gotten clear of Larry and had left Ireland for the deserts of the Middle East. Having such a hands-on handler constantly second guessing him from the sidelines was bad enough, but Strong's grasp of the situation was tenuous at best.

 _~~There ain't no way I can escape~~_

While the agent in charge had done a great job of making sure _he_ wasn't going anywhere, he'd done a pretty lousy job of keeping track of his target. Based on the intel he'd seen at the black site prison, it seemed Burke was operating out of the DR. He had estimated six months to wrap this entire operation.

 _~~Without a doubt you know that I would tread the deepest end~~  
~~A thousand years forever and a day~~_

But he'd already _been here_ six months, not including his time in CIA custody and on the freighter, without a sign of his target and Strong's threats to friends' lives as an attempt to motivate him regarding his lack of success had been an epic failure. Demanding and getting his hands on the _all_ intel on the op had made him realize that his new handler was an equal failure. Burke had been coming and going from the DR, he wasn't operating out of it and everyone who had tried to get near Randall Burke had ended up dead.

 _~~But I don't wanna drown in you  
I'm sinking and I'm torn in two~~_

That's when he'd truly understood what was going on. Maybe he would get in with the terrorist network they were hunting, but more likely he would either get killed trying or he'd waste away in the Santa Domingo sun waiting for the man to take an interest. Any way it went down, he was no longer the CIA's problem and Agent Strong apparently had only one last chance to produce results, hence his offer to him.

 _~~So when you see me come up for air  
Don't try to hold me down, just save me now  
(Just save me now)  
Don't let me drown in you~~  
_

They'd burned him, thanks to a rogue organization in their own ranks, they'd reinstated him after he'd spent six months cleaning up _their mess_ and then they sent a 'living legend' after him for killing a man who'd been a mentor to him, who turned out to be as dirty as they people who had gotten him burned…

" _I know it's hard to leave your past behind, but it's for the best."_

He took another long drink of the high dollar spirits as he remembered her pleading with him to let it go.

 _She's kissing him…But then her arms are around his neck, around that damned suit he'd put on to convince them he was back in of his own free will, and now she's crying into her hand, her whole body shaking…_

All because he'd said the wrong thing when he'd been trying to save them to them, to protect her…

 _~~Did I bring this to myself? Can I get out alive?~~  
_

A round of shoulda, coulda, woulda and suddenly the rum was almost gone. _Why was the rum gone?_

 _~~Yeah, I've given you the best of me, now you want the rest of me  
What's it gonna take to survive?~~_

Eventually, the question wouldn't be whether his cover ID would attract the target; it would be whether there would be enough of him left to complete the mission when it did _. He'd given his life to the Company…_

" _You know I was once just like you Michael – lived for the job. Then I discovered that the job doesn't love you back. I was angry at first; then I found I didn't miss it. You might find the same thing, Michael._

 _~~There's a place where you can light the fire and watch it burn~~  
_

He stared at the nearly empty bottle and he realized he had a choice to make. He had never wanted to be _that man_ , the one who let the alcohol own him, but that's what he had become. The problem was, this time he wasn't playing a part, he was playing himself. The lines between Michael Westen, alcoholic ex-spy committing the occasional crime to pay the rent and rotting away in the Dominican Republic, and himself, who he really was at his core, had gotten so blurry, he almost didn't know who he was anymore.

 _~~I don't wanna drown in you  
(Drown in you)  
I'm sinking and I'm torn in two~~  
_

His hand shook as he ran it over his sweating brow. _How many times had he hated his father for using the booze and making all their lives miserable?_ He hadn't rolled over and played dead for Frank Westen. He'd survived Ranger School. He'd graduated at the head of Tom Card's class. He hadn't given up when they'd burned him. He'd taken every bad thing that had happened to him and used it as a tool to further his career, used it to help him save American lives, done something good with something truly bad.

 _~~So when you see me, come up for air  
Don't try to hold me down, just save me now  
(Just save me now)~~_

He would do the same to save his friends. He didn't know when Randall Burke was going to show up. He didn't know how long this was going to take. But if he wasn't ready _when Burke_ _did_ , then all this was pain and misery was for nothing and just like it was with his childhood, he couldn't let it be for nothing.

 _~~Don't let me drown in you  
Don't let me drown in you  
(Drown in you)~~_

He'd already failed Fiona more times than he cared to count. _He'd blown the opportunity to let her know what was really going on._ He _had_ finally gotten her out of prison, but at terrible price. _He remembers her thanking him for not giving up on her, was he giving up on her now? After the thousands of times she'd never given up on him, despite everything he'd done to her… Did he have one more last chance with her?_

 _~~(Just save me now)~~_

" _Have you ever thought that you deserved better than this?"_

 _~~Don't let me drown in you  
(Drown in you)~~_

As he stared down the bottle in his hand, taunting him, calling to him, he recalled her answer to his question and clung to that, dropping the heavy glass container to the floor.

He'd had enough to drink _for tonight_.


	2. Going Under

_**A/N**_ _: Welcome back to the next chapter of Season Seven Songbook, where we continue to fill in the gaps in and in between the episodes. Upcoming stories from my brilliant writing partner, Purdy's Pal, will dovetail (cuz we just can't stop collaborating and coordinating ~ LOL) with these chapters, covering this same timeframe in updates to "The Old Michael Westen," "Blackbird Song" and "Pale Imitation."_

 _So again, this is all Matt Nix's utterly wonderful creation and I don't own any of it. Likewise, I don't own "Going Under" by Evanescence and only dream about having Amy Lee's pipes! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited Chapter One. I hope to get all these 'prequels' to 701 out this week._

 _This story follows after the events detailed in "While Michael Sleeps" Chapter 8, which was also written prior to the S7 premiere as a lyrically enhanced story attempting to show what was going on in Fiona's head before she saw Michael and hopefully explains some of her mental state. It starts at the ending of 6.18 "Game Change" and covers some of the time before Fiona's "new life, new house, new man…"_

 _"_ _Going Under_ _"_

 _Three weeks of waiting and wondering..._

 _There he is at last…_

 _She's going to break that bastard's arm if he doesn't let go of her in the next two seconds._

But Michael nods and she runs to him, throwing her arms around him like she had the day she got out of Allarod and she hears him whisper "Give us a moment…"

 _And just like their reunion at the prison, she can feel something is wrong, sense that there's a tragedy as horrific as Nate Westen's death waiting to be dropped in her lap as they check on everyone's condition._

"They'll be released shortly. I just wanted to talk to you first."

 _The chill runs down her spine. He says he's been interrogated? He doesn't look it. It's the tight pinched look in his eyes that he always gets when he's about to deliver bad news that holds her attention._

"What's going on?"

 _He won't answer her… and ice water is running through her veins because all her blood is starting to roar in her ears._ And he does it… first biting his lip, then that tilt of the head that means 'please, Fi…'She reminds him of what he promised her. _She'd begged him not to say it if he didn't mean it._

"I needed to protect you. I needed to protect all of us."

 _She knows what he's done. Maybe not the details, but she knows what it means. But she has to ask._

"Michael, what have you done?"

 _And he's explaining and she's listening for some hint of what's really going on. There has to be one. It can't be what it looks like…taking helicopter rides and ordering CIA agents about, it can't be that…_

"So I made a deal." Her heart is racing now and then he starts to say it. The words that she hates the most, his reason, his damned excuse for every bad, hurtful thing he's ever done to her or anyone else.

"I did what I—"

"What you had to do. No, Michael, you did what you wanted to do."

 _~~Now I will tell you what I've done for you~~  
_

 _The last six years of her life rewind in a blur through tear filled eyes. He's back in. What he always said he wanted... It doesn't matter why he made the deal, he made it. He can't stop dancing with the devil…_

He's reaching for her. It's clear on his face that he realizes his mistake. She's not having it.

 _~~Fifty thousand tears I've cried~~_

"No!" she gasps, jerking away from him… "No…" _everything she's sacrificed for him…_ "No…" _all the months, the years…_ "No…" _how long does he expect her to wait_ this time _while he does what he has to do?_

 _~~Screaming, deceiving and bleeding for you~~-  
_

And she's crying, losing it like she hasn't in years, eyes closed, body shaking, _remembering his promises..._

 _~~And you still won't hear me (going under)~~_

She looks up at him through watery eyes, her hand clamped over her _mouth because she's not going to give them any more satisfaction from her agony. She can't look at him, can't stay here one more second…_

She's flying towards the door. The idiot who'd escorted her from her cell is stupid enough to get in her way. He's on the floor, curled in a ball, in three moves. She sees them raising their weapons and she charges ahead because dying in a hail of lead cannot possibly feel any worse than the pain that's coursing through every cell in her body. She hears Michael yelling for them to stand down. She couldn't care less.

 _~~Don't want your hand this time - I'll save myself!~~  
_

But she can't find the exit in this _fecking maze fram tha pit o' hell itself, cursing every one o' tha bastids_ though none dare get in her way. She's doubled back, maybe tripled back now, when she sees Sam with Maddie and Jesse close behind. He's got his hands up, trying to talk her down. She doesn't want it to, but it works. She follows him into a large room with a big table covered with stacks of paperwork.

 _~~Maybe I'll wake up for once (wake up for once)~~_

She doesn't look at what she's signing, _what damned difference does it make? They'll do whatever the hell they want anyway._ She doesn't hear them droning at her about what she can and can't do. But she's breathing heavy like she's run a marathon and her friends are looking at her with worried eyes. _Too bad…!_

 _~~Not tormented daily defeated by you~~_

She loves them, but she can't be around them another second. She can't stand anything that reminds her… _of him!_ She sits in the back of the cargo plane, eyes closed, refusing to think about the plane that got them out of Panama, refusing to think about anything that happened since they'd returned from _that_ _country_ , but oddly enough thinking about Brady Pressman's sacrifice helps, though she doesn't know why.

 _~~Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom~~  
_

Their vehicles are there, waiting for them on the tarmac where they'd parked them afterthey'd boarded that damned CIA black flight. She's sees the Charger sitting there. The sick look she knows is on her face says it all. Sam tosses her the keys to his Cadillac and she's gone in a white cloud of burning rubber. _  
_

 _~~I'm dying again~~_

She's lying on the cot she keeps in her private stash house out in the Everglades. She's safer here than almost anywhere in the world. It's her secret place, the place no one knows about, _not even him._ She's roaring drunk again and the room is spinning, but it still hasn't silenced that damned voice in her head.

" _If this job goes well, if we can show them how well we work together…"_

 _~~I'm going under (going under)~~_

" _When this is all over, maybe we could work together again…"_

 _~~Drowning in you (drowning in you)~~_

" _But we are so close to wrapping this up and then I can move on…"_

 _~~I'm falling forever (falling forever)~~  
_

" _It's a new job, Fi, but it's not a new life. I like my life and I want to live it with you."_

 _~~I've got to break through~~  
_

" _I am not losing you, Fi, not after all this…"_

 _~~I'm going under~~  
_

" _I need a rest as much as you do, Fi…"_

 _It's been a week, maybe? She's not sure, time has run together and everything is a blue or a red tinged blur depending on if its daylight or dark._ She remembers putting loads of extra 56.5x45mm ventilation holes into a rusting derelict Port-a-Let with a lovely piece of automatic weaponry she can no longer sell _thanks ta tha C. I. fecking A._ and wishing it was something else in her sights. There've been explosions, beautiful fireballs incinerating abandoned half sunken airboats and nuisance vegetation. _It hasn't helped_.

" _After I get Grey, I'll leave. I'm out."_

 _~~Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies~~_

" _Did I make ya happy then?"_

" _Yes, luv, ya did… Ya made me happier than I've ever been in me entire life."_

 _~~ (So I don't know what's real)~~_

" _I may not be who I said I was, but I told you the truth about why I was here, Fi, what my mission was. We're after the same thing… and it doesn't change the way I feel about you…"  
_

 _~~So I don't know what's real and what's not~~_

" _Fi, when you were talking about Ireland earlier, I hope you know I miss that time too."_

 _~~(don't know what's real and what's not)~~  
_

She's crying again, tears running down her face, huge gasping sobs that rack her aching body until her heaving stomach settles the matter and she's on her hands and knees over the same strategically placed little round trash can, grateful for a stupid bin liner, before she collapses onto the hard wood of the floor.

 _~~Always confusing the thoughts in my head~~  
_

 _Was it all a lie? Every tender touch, every lingering kiss, every soft smile_ … She can still feel it… still feel him stroking his hand over her face, feel his large palm cradling her cheek, his knuckles gently brushing-

 _~~So I can't trust myself anymore~~  
_

 _No, it was far worse than that. Michael loved her, he really did love her…_ She knew he did though he'd never been able to say to her directly. _The way he held her, the way he made love to her, body and soul._

" _I need to you, Fi…"_

" _Safe at home…"_

 _Michael loved her and he was_ still _able to leave her behind and go back to the bastards who had ruined all their lives!_ She sees him in her head again…that damned vision that won't go away… Him there in his fancy black suit, more dressed up than she's seen him outside of a funeral or for a job… _He never wears a tie unless he's going to lie or somebody's died…_ Now, she knows what she was feeling as she'd clung to him and why she felt like had _…_

 _~~I'm dying again~~  
_

" _I couldn't leave you in there forever. They weren't just gonna forget everything that happened and release you…So, I made a deal…"_

 _~~I'm going under (going under)~~_

" _Forgive? Me? Forgive me for pulling every single string at the agency to get you out of here or is this still about Ireland? Because if it is, let me straighten you out on that score. Michael's cover was about to be blown. He wouldn't leave…you. Forget about the fact that if he stayed, you'd both be dead right now or worse and would you… would ya like to venture a guess just exactly who dropped everything and flew halfway around the world to make sure that didn't happen?"_

 _~~Drowning in you (drowning in you)~~  
_

 _Is that what was really going on here? Was he being manipulated by CIA again? If he was, why didn't he let her know? They had a code word fer every fecking thing in the bloody IRA… He could nae come up wit' sommit better than I fecking did whot I fecking hadda do? Did it matter if he wa'? Even if he wa' being forced ta do thar bidding, did it really matter? He wa' nae ever gonna be free o' tham until he wa' dead…_

 _~~I'm falling forever (falling forever)~~  
_

And once the bawling stopped over the thought of his death, torn between anger and anguish, _feeling like she had all those years when she hadn't known if he was dead or alive,_ she finally came around to asking the more important question: what was she going to do now? She had nothing left and nowhere to go.

 _~~I've got to break through~~  
_

Everything she hadn't lost when Jesse had blown up her new place had been lost when he'd forced her to burn the loft… _and it wa' all fer fecking nothin'… she'd lost every fecking thing fer nothin' and now…_

 _~~I'm...~~  
_

She felt bad for scaring Elsa… _well, she did now anyway_ … at the time, when she'd crawled out of the Everglades looking and smelling pretty much like a creature from the black lagoon, if it had been playing with gun powder and C-4 that is, she hadn't given a damn about much of anything. It had only been for Sam's sake… _well, that wasn't true either… She'd gone through her stash of fresh water and booze and her nocturnal activities were starting to attract unwanted attention and she really need to conserve stock_.

 _It wasn't like she was going to be able to lay her hands on anything to replace the ammo and explosives she'd used up to assuage her burning rage any time soon thanks ta tha bastids in thar fancy black suits…._

When she'd finally made contact, Sam had thanked her for not wrecking the Caddie and begged her to come back to the hotel long enough for the CIA to know she hadn't skipped town, reminding her that the things she'd signed said she couldn't leave Miami. She knew they would take it out on the rest of them.

 _But that didn't mean she had to make it easier on the suits and sunglasses crowd to keep track of her._

 _~~So go on and scream  
Scream at me. I'm so far away (so far away)~~_

 _But that also meant she wasn't making it any easier for Michael to contact her either._ She was living off the grid, hiding out in the shadier parts of Miami, of which there were plenty, moving from place to place, not staying in one spot very long. She usually ended up hurting someone bad rather badly to protect someone innocent and usually that was when it was time to move on before she attracted police attention.

 _~~I won't be broken again (again)~~_

 _Not that she really expected him to get word to her directly. She was waiting for some sign somewhere._

It was easy to keep checking all their marker spots and rally points without being spotted since she had no home base to speak of, so they had nowhere to tail her from, and she kept checking in with Sam…

 _~~I've got to breathe - I can't keep going under~~  
_

But as the months dragged on, _no word, not a whisper, no sign, nor a signal_ , she became enraged all over again, angry at him, infuriated with the Agency, but most of all furious with herself for daring to hope.

 _~~I'm dying again~~  
_

 _He haunts her dreams at night, touching her, holding her, making love to her, promising her…_ and leaving her cold and alone every morning, abandoned all over again _just like that frosty spring morning in Dublin…_

 _~~I'm going under (going under)  
Drowning in you (drowning in you)~~_

She must have looked really bad. She didn't know what was worse, the fear or the sympathy in the older man's expression. But she was almost out of money and she needed to start over. She requires a permanent address to give to the local bail bondsman, one she's worked for in the past. _Time to see if that BS the CIA said about clearing their criminal records is true_. She needs somewhere safer to stay than where she'd been holing up and a car to drive that she hasn't stolen until she can buy her own stuff.

 _~~I'm falling forever (falling forever)  
I've got to break through~~  
_

It's not the fanciest place she's ever stayed, but little condo they've lent her is nice and it's clean and there's not a single thing in it that reminds her at all of her old life and that fact alone makes it good.

 _The mattress is almost too soft,_ she thinks as she's lying there staying at the ceiling. _Compared to all the places she's been sleeping lately…_ _well, sort of sleeping…_ _compared to her cot at Allarod, compared to—_

She snatches that memory and squeezes the life out of it. _She might not be able to stop him from invading her rest, but she'll be damned if she'll willing give Michael Westen one more conscious thought._

 _~~I'm going under (going under)  
I'm going under (drowning in you)~~_

 _There was only one way to banish his ghost…._ It worked after Dublin, it worked all those years in between Dublin and Miami, it worked all the times he'd pushed her away, shut her out in Miami and it would again.

 _~~I'm going under~~_

 _Because it has to…_


	3. Start of Something Good

_**A/N**_ _: A huge thank you to everyone who has hung in there through the opening chapters of Season Seven Songbook, for reading and reviewing, and now we come to a somewhat lighter offering. Michael has kept his promise, even though he and Fiona are utterly miserable, to make this right for Sam and others._

 _Details about Sam's visit to Elsa, wherein our hero leaves his friends overnight that took place between 6.14 "Down and Out" and 6.15 "Best Laid Plans," can be found in Chapter 3 of "What Sam Knows."_

 _Thanks again to Matt Nix for creating Burn Notice, though I'm not so sure how grateful I am about S7, and I don't own any of it or "Start of Something Good" by Chris Daughtry. There is a playlist for Season 7 Songbook on YouTube on Ruth Westen's channel for anyone interested in the lyrics or the music._

 _This vignette is set a few months before Sam's first appearance in 7.01 "New Deal."_

"Start Of Something Good"

"Another mojito, Mr. Axe?"

"Why yes, I believe I do have time for one more." He motioned for the younger man to sit down in the empty lounge next to his in the far corner of the pool deck. "Listen, Javier, I need your help."

"Isn't it a little early to be planning something for Ms. Dearborn's birthday?"

"Oh no, my friend, you can never start planning too soon for a mission of this importance," said Sam, a big grin forming on his face as he took proffered libation. "There's a lot of serious disinformation that needs to be planted to keep this operation under wraps, I'm talking about a full on psych ops campaign."

"Of course, sir…"

The ex-SEAL took a huge slurp of the mint and cane sugar infused rum. "Ahhhh," he sighed with satisfaction. "Nothing like making up for lost time…" His drinking had been severely curtailed for a while.

 _After being shot through a car door while trying to escape with Mike and then almost dying on a pool table in a coke head doctor's house, the next three weeks had been spent cuffed to a hospital bed on pain medications under heavy guard, but at least he'd gotten to see Elsa in a couple of monitored visits._

"Good man… I'll get the rest of the team in place and then you'll get your assignments."

Javier stood up, smiling back at the owner's boyfriend and an unofficial overseer of the Darabont Hotel.

"Very good, Mr. Axe, we'll be ready. Will you be leaving for the Keys as soon as Ms. Dearborn returns?"

"Yep, I made sure they're ready to weigh anchor cuz our bags are already packed. Thanks, Javi."

As he watched the young man retreat back into the building, Sam leaned back in his chair, feeling the sun shining down on him and remembering how close he had come to never seeing it or Elsa again.

The day she had come to bring him a change of clothes in preparation for his release, she had been very stressed out and really angry. Not only had the CIA suddenly informed her that he was not being let go and instead was being transported to a secure facility pending the outcome of their final investigation into the matter, but there had been a massive air conditioning failure in the entire building overnight and a swarm of technicians were now running around her hotel and even invading her private penthouse.

 _She'd looked at him with fire in her eyes and promised the CIA hadn't heard the last of Elsa Dearborn._

After their return from a black site prison, he'd been so relieved to see her there, running across the tarmac towards him, in no small part because Fiona had just shot out of the parking lot in the white pearl Cadillac she'd purchased for him. But instead of censuring him for lending the car to a lunatic, Elsa had swept into his arms and kissed him with as much passion as the night he'd snuck into her secret shelter.

And as bad as he had felt for Tinkerbell, he had been all too happy to go home with his woman and do some serious recuperating. Of course, as he was still on painkillers for the GSW, there'd been no alcohol in his immediate future, but right then he couldn't have cared less. _Elsa was all the medicine he'd needed_.

Taking another long pull of his favorite beverage, Sam thought about the irony of it all: _him sober and sweating bullets over the CIA throwing them all back in prison because Little Miss Terrorist had apparently dropped off the radar and was on a bender somewhere out in the Everglades._ Not that he blamed for her for that. Of course, of all the things _she could have done_ , that had probably been the least troublesome.

He had breathed a huge sigh of relief when she'd finally made contact and another one when the Caddie had come back in one piece, though it had taken a bit to get the odor out of it. _Now_ he could smile about Elsa's reaction to the wild Irishwoman who'd showed up at the staff entrance reeking of hard liquor, gun powder and body odor, but there really _hadn't been_ anything funny about Fiona's filthy, bloody, muddy, overall unkempt appearance at the time when she'd finally turned up back at the hotel.

But his love was a lady through and through. Since she'd been involved procuring clean clothing for them while Team Westen has been locked away somewhere unknown, she'd been thoughtful enough to have extra outfits on hand for everyone once they'd been released. Fiona had certainly been in need of a few new things once she'd finally come in from her version of 'walk about.' _Elsa was one amazing woman_.

 _~~You never know when you're gonna meet someone  
and your whole wide world in a moment comes undone~~  
_

He remembered the first time he'd seen the leggy brunette sauntering across the pool deck very late one evening, not realizing that it was the owner of his new favorite hotel pool bar. _He'd been determined to get to know her better._ Preparing the Sam Axe charm for a full-on assault, he'd asked her to join him.

 _~~You're just walking around and suddenly  
Everything that you thought that you knew about love is gone_

 _You find out it's all been wrong_ ~~

He chuckled about their _Big Mama_ and _Boy Toy_ phase. _His friends might have made fun of him, but he knew how to show a gal a good time and not just in the sack, though he was second to none in that department._ He had buddies everywhere, but not all of them were guys. He thought he'd been happy.

~~And all my scars don't seem to matter anymore  
'Cause they led me here to you~~

As he sipped the last of his mojito, Sam thought about all the women in his life, the ones who had just passed through and the ones who had really left a mark on his heart and despite what his friends thought about him and what he very frequently thought about himself, he really had been looking for _the one_ …

And he _thought_ he found _the one_ a couple of times, believed that things would work out in the end, but it wasn't until the tall shapely hotelier with the beautiful smile had entered into his life that _he knew_ …

 _~~I know that it's gonna take some time  
I've got to admit that the thought has crossed my mind  
This might end up like it should~~  
_

He had been so close to walking away from it all for Elsa. _Asking her to get their supplies had been one thing, but leaving her to be interrogated by the CIA, telling her to forget that she'd ever known him,_ that had wounded him deeply. Sam knew he had to talk to her, even if it meant abandoning his best friends.

 _~~And I'm gonna say what I need to say  
And hope to God that it don't scare you away  
Don't wanna be misunderstood~~  
_

Suddenly, the former SEAL realized what had just crossed his mind and he had laughed out loud.

 _Yeah, friends plural…_ _He hadda history with Mike a mile long, but that tiny terrorist who'd made his life miserable had grown on him…_ _like toe nail fungus or something…_ Sam laughed again.

They'd been frenemies for so long that it felt weird to admit that he cared about the little Irish pixie and it had pained him to see her hurting so badly while he and Elsa were finally free to enjoy their happiness. Mike had made it right for him, just like he had promised, and Sam was very grateful for that.

 _~~But I'm starting to believe that this could be the start of something good~~  
_

Unfortunately, there had been a lot of collateral damage for everyone else while Mike had been keeping that promise to him. Sam felt a little bit guilty how well things had gone for him compared to the others.

 _~~Everyone knows life has its ups and downs  
One day you're on top of the world and one day you're the clown~~  
_

Of course, he had done his best to help out where he could. Jesse's going on the run with them after Panama had been the end of his job at Securicorp, which was always on thin ice due to the amount of time he spent assisting with Team Westen side projects. A phone call to Lucy Chen had landed the young man another chance with the branch office in South Florida of the new company she had recently opened.

 _~~Well I've been both enough to know~~  
_

His call to Mr. Porter's cell went straight to voicemail, so he left him a message to circle Elsa's birthday on his calendar and then almost reluctantly dialed the next number on his speed dial list.

 _~~That you don't wanna get in the way when it's working out~~  
_

He'd tried to help Madeline out as much as he could, doing odd jobs and such around the house, and having a security system put in, as the house had been broken into while they were all in lock up. Jesse had stayed with her at first, but had gone back to Atlanta to visit relatives for a while, _or so he had said._

 _~~The way that it is right now~~  
_

When the call went to voicemail as well, he didn't leave a message. Her additional boozing and rising bitterness had been hard to take and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Although none of them would verbalize it, they had all been waiting with varying degrees of expectation to hear something from Mike.

 _~~You see my heart, I wear it on my sleeve  
'Cause I just can't hide it anymore~~  
_

He understood better than all of them the necessities of a deep cover mission, but even he had begun to worry just a little bit about his friend and the women in Mike's life had been taking his silence worst of all.

 _~~I know that it's gonna take some time~~  
_

 _It used to be they were all missing Mike and just not admitting it, but now…_ Sam shook his head. He was all about loyalty _, but just like that crap situation they'd gotten into with Anson Fullerton,_ he couldn't be supportive of one of his best buds without it being at the expense of other. _This just sucked…._ But Fiona deserved a chance to be happy and she could have come up with worse solutions than Carlos Cruz _._

 _~~I've got to admit that the thought has crossed my mind~~  
_

 _Like blowing up the frickin' CIA headquarters in Langley…_ She'd suggested it once and he had been pretty sure at the time that she hadn't been joking. So he had sucked it up and shaken hands with _her_ man. Fiona had watched him with an expression that was both pleading and daring him to challenge her on it.

 _~~This might end up like it should~~  
_

"Hola, Sam, hang on a minute... Oye, Fiona, Sam for you..."

He tried to put on his best game face and not flinch when Carlos answered Fiona's phone. He couldn't think of too many reasons why the redhead would have allowed it. Even as he was telling her about his upcoming plans and she was sounding way too much like the cat that had swallowed the canary whole, Sam couldn't shake that sick feeling that settled in his stomach whenever he talked to her these days.

 _~~And I'm gonna say what I need to say~~  
_

He hated admitting it; Carlos _was_ a decent enough guy. But he was no Michael Westen… Then again, that was unfortunately the point. Mr. Cruz wouldn't have been in the picture at all if Mike had been around. Part of him hoped he didn't have to be there when Mike finally came home and found out… _if he came home…_ Sam shook off those thoughts. _His pal would be back whenever the mission had finally wrapped_.

 _~~And hope to God that it don't scare you away~~  
_

 _And then what…?_

~~Don't wanna be misunderstood~~

He'd tried standing up for Mike… _The CIA wasn't just gonna let 'em all go… there was a price to pay and Mike was paying it._ But he couldn't in good conscience tell Fiona to put her life on hold when he'd had nothing to offer her but his gut feelings and he couldn't stand watchin' her die every day Mike didn't show.

 _~~But I'm starting to believe that this could be the start~~  
_

Sam heard the staccato clack of some very expensive pumps on the pool deck and he shook off his sad reverie _. There wasn't a damned thing he could do about that sorry situation between Mike and Fi._ But he sure as hell could show _his_ _lady_ _he loved_ just how much she meant to him in every way possible.

 _~~Cause I don't know where it's going  
There's a part of me that loves not knowing  
Just don't let it end before we begin~~  
_

"There she is! Give me some sugar, baby," the tan man on the lounger leaned towards the brunette who was settling onto the seat next to him, kissing her cheek as she sat down in the chair.

"Thank God today is finally over! Those idiots have no idea—" She stopped herself mid-rant and looked at him with big blue apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry… How was your day? How are you feeling?" Elsa asked.

"Better now," he grinned.

~~You never know when you're gonna meet someone  
And your whole wide world in a moment comes undone~~

She shook her head, the sunlight catching on all the red highlights in her beautiful brown hair, and she beamed at him, that indulgent smiled that he loved the best.

"Are you ready to go because I am _so_ ready to get out of here," she declared.

Sam sat up and took her hands into his larger ones. "Tough day at the office, dear…?"

"You have _no_ idea…"

"Yeah, you're probably right," he chuckled. "I'd rather take on a boardroom fulla lawyers with a M16A2."

The image of that had her laughing, just like he'd intended, a light sound that was music to his ears.

"Come on, baby," Sam urged, coming to his feet and pulling her up along with him. "The boat's ready and our bags are packed. We can be in Key West in time to catch the sunset if we get moving."

 _I know that it's gonna take some time  
I've got to admit that the thought has crossed my mind  
This might end up like it should~~_

"Ooooh, that sounds really good. A whole week off, no one to deal with… nothing to do…"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll find something," he said seductively before kissing her soundly, all the things he'd contemplated throughout the afternoon disappearing from his brain as his world narrowed down to her.

~~And I'm gonna say what I need to say  
And hope to God that it don't scare you away  
Don't wanna be misunderstood~~

He'd had a lotta close calls while he was wearing the uniform and quite a few while he'd been hanging around Miami with his best buddies; however, having woken up on Jed's pool table after he'd been having coffee with his dearly departed Nana had certainly clarified his priorities. Because Sam Axe knew exactly what he wanted and needed in his life and she was right there in his arms and he wasn't about to blow it.

~~But I'm starting to believe  
Oh, I'm starting to believe that

This could be the start of something good~~


	4. Would It Matter?

_**A/N**_ _: Thanks to everyone for following along as we continue to mine the misery that was Michael in Season 7, again all owned by Matt Nix, and as brilliantly portrayed by Purdy's Pal in the second chapter of "The Old Michael Westen," our hero thinks there might finally be a chance to go home._

 _Now, after the events of 7.01, Michael does have a chance to go home, but he is forbidden by his handler to make contact with his friends and family. So the question is musically rendered by Skillet in this chapter. I don't own their song, "Would It Matter," but it was just perfect for what Michael was feeling._

 _This vignette is set between the ending of 7.01 "New Deal" and the opening of 7.02 "Forget Me Not."_

"Would It Matter?"

 _When you give a piece of intelligence to anyone, even an ally, you never know what they're going to do with it. Because even if you completely trust that person, you run the risk of them taking that information and using it for their own purposes…_

" _From your own mother, pendejo…?"_

Somehow, his mother had let someone know he was working for the CIA. How or why she would have done that was a mystery to him. But the logic behind Madeline Westen's decisions had often eluded him. Now, all those months of hell for the mission had been jeopardized. But like any good operative, Michael was determined make this work in his favor. _He just needed some solid intel and a little more time._

"We have a serious problem."

 _Everything about this operation has serious problems_ … But he kept those thoughts to himself when Strong had responded to his query about whether or not his cover had been blown.

"Someone's been asking around Miami about you. You think Burke knows?"

 _Obviously not, I'm still breathing…_ "No or I'd be dead. Pablo said the Miami contact was his, not Burke's. But whoever he is, he won't keep his secret forever."

"Which is why I'm headed stateside to clean this up…"

Those words caused his heart to skip a beat and he waited with the proverbial baited breath for the rest.

"When's Burke supposed to make contact again?" the older man asked.

" _I'm going to go away for a few days. I'll be in touch, but I want you to keep a low profile until I get back."_ Burke's instructions echoed in his head and the spy recalled the relief he'd felt when his explanation for Pablo's death had apparently been fully accepted. " _You stay strong, Michael… and be ready."_

"Not for at least another 48 hours," he answered Strong's question.

"That's cutting it close, but we don't have much choice. I need someone in Miami who can hit the ground running, so you're coming with."

 _There it was; the opening he'd been praying for._ "I'll need to contact Sam and Jesse."

"You don't contact anybody. This isn't a class reunion." His handler crushed his hopes mercilessly. "You get seen in Miami, our whole op is over." _And there was the unspoken reminder of what happened if the operation failed._ Michael wondered if the man ever got tired of threatening his friends. _Didn't seem like it._

"We go in, we stay in the shadows. No one knows we're there. We find the sonvuabitch, we put him in the ground. You understand the stakes, right?"

"I understand it's him or me."

Michael stood there a while longer after his CIA contact had left. _Didn't want it to seem like there was anything going on between them after all… just two people bumping into each other at el Mercado…_

He was glad to be paying for his produce today instead of stealing it. It would have attracted too much unneeded attention. Fortunately, he'd been winning more than losing these days. Having to take a fall or a beating wouldn't have helped him stick to _the world's most effective detox program_ , as Burke had put it.

Going cold turkey had been rough, tougher than he'd ever imagined. He had a brief flash of guilt over the way he had always ragged Nate about his addictions. His brother's nocturnal visits had included plenty of commentary about his big bro's self-righteousness while he'd been going through the worst of the physical withdrawal symptoms. Michael was grateful he'd already started cutting back before his target had arrived in his apartment to offer him not just a job, _but a new life_.

So, as much as he had detested becoming a drunk, drying out had been even harder because, as much as he hated to admit this as well, the alcohol _really did_ help numb the pain…

 _I'm gonna have to apologize to Sam the next time I see him about the…._

Michael almost stumbled as that thought crossed his mind and he was forced to acknowledge that there were hurts for worse than cracked ribs and busted knuckles that he'd been trying to drown in hard liquor.

 _~~If I wasn't here tomorrow,  
Would anybody care?~~_

His years in Miami had eroded the walls he'd constructed around his heart and losing his friends, his family, had been worse than all the beatings he'd ever taken, never mind in the last nine months. He'd tried to deny it, _because lying to oneself was a Westen family tradition as much as alcoholism or addiction._

 _~~If my time was up, I wanna know  
You were happy I was there.~~_

However, it wasn't until Strong had squashed his plans to see make contact in Miami that he was forced to confront just how much he had missed them and, with no balm of booze to soften the blow, it was a raw nerve, an aching that refused to go away. Biting his bottom lip, Michael soldiered on, forcing himself to focus on the next thing he needed to put in place to cover his two day absence from his _night work_.

 _~~If I wasn't here tomorrow,  
Would anyone lose sleep?~~_

His cover ID was an irresponsible drunk, so sometimes he didn't show up at night to fight just to reinforce that. Other times, he had truly been too injured, ill or just plain hungover to make it down the stairs. Either way, he was usually passed out or pretending to be in that shithole apartment. This time, just in case this was a test, he needed a more plausible explanation of his total absence from Santa Domingo.

 _~~If I wasn't hard and hollow,  
Then maybe you would miss me.~~_

It had taken a bit of maneuvering, but he'd managed to make it look like an accident, running into a pro both he and Marquez had used in the past. So his sharing that he was dead broke now but about to come into some money in the next two days ensured the woman would not want to spend any time with him until he was flush again and that Marquez would spend the next forty eight hours or so looking for him.

 _~~I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone,  
Someone that I like better.~~_

And the second place the rival bar owner would look for him after his abode would be where he earned his money and then generally scour the streets, providing him with the perfect alibi for dropping off the radar.

Fortunately for him, Marquez knew that if he didn't find him in a couple of days, the money would already have been converted and consumed, so no need to look farther. He also had a quick temper and a limited amount of patience like someone else he had known and would not pursue that matter longer than that.

 _~~I can never forget,  
So don't remind me of it forever.~~_

He forcefully pushed away thoughts of Fiona as he slowly climbed the staircase that he had another love-hate relationship with. _Thinking about her wasn't going to help right now_. He needed to get ready to go.

Unfortunately for him, preparing to depart didn't consume a lot of his time. He owed nothing outside of some changes of clothing, a bar of Jabón Bébé, Frescool toothpaste, Rexona deodorant and his H&K P30. Showered up, dressed in a comfortable shirt, his cargo pants and combat boots, Michael sat in his kitchen eating a delicious locally-made yogurt and fighting back the urge to wash it down with a pint of Seboney.

 _~~What if I just pulled myself together,  
Would it matter at all?  
What if I just try not to remember,  
Would it matter at all?~~_

He remembered coming home that night to find his target eating his yogurt and the man's second going through what little he still had to his name. He was beyond grateful that Burke hadn't listened to Pablo.

 _~~All the chances that have passed me by,  
Would it matter if I gave it one more try?~~_

 __The thoughts of what could have happened if his prey had chosen not to take the bait haunted him now. _  
_

~~Would it matter at all?~~

" _He's interested but he's feeling me out. He thinks I might have lost my edge."_

" _Any chance your non-stop booze-a-thon has given him second thoughts? I warned you not to take that dead end act too far."_

" _Burke won't believe a top shelf operative fell into his lap. He's gotta think I'm damaged goods or the story falls apart."_

" _Well, you better hope so, cuz the clock is ticking. If he walks away—"_

 _But he hadn't_. Thankfully Randall Burke had a soft spot for old friends and he'd managed to not only complete the mission he'd been given, but he also had been able to silence his critic at the same time.

 _~~If I wasn't here tomorrow,  
Would anybody care?_

Because the idea that he might have had to spend the rest of his life here was too dark to contemplate…

 _~~Still stuck inside this sorrow,  
I've got nothing and going nowhere.~~_

Pablo had done him a favor, besides dying conveniently before he could expose his secret or put a bullet in the back of his head, by making a contact in Miami. Now Michael had the chance to make one himself.

 _~~I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone,  
Someone that I like better.~~_

And thinking about Miami led to thinking about her, as it always did. Bile rose up in throat as the image of her, sobbing into her hand and quaking before she turned and ran from him, exploded in his brain and there was no alcoholic haze to blur it. _She's running towards the exit with no regard for the multiple assault rifles pointed in her direction and he_ 's _shaking with relief as they follow his orders and stand down._

 _~~I can never forget  
So don't remind me of it forever.~~_

And the bottle that's not there called his name, as he wiped a trembling hand across the light perspiration that's accumulated upon his brow, trying not to think about what he was going to find when he got back.

 _~~What if I just pulled myself together,  
Would it matter at all?~~_

Michael kicked himself mentally for the millionth time for not realizing that the act he had put on would crush her and, in his fear that he would say something that would cause them to hand her over to MI6, he had inadvertently said the one thing that was guaranteed to break her belief in him and send her fleeing.

 _~~What if I just try not to remember,  
Would it matter at all?~~_

Then there was Sam, Jesse and his mom… _After the debacle with Fiona, apparently Strong wasn't going to take any more chances._ While a couple of the guards were carrying the man she had incapacitated off the helipad, Michael had approached the trio only to be met by two other agents that informed him he was needed in the control room and they would handle showing everyone out of the facility. He had nodded mutely as his chance to rectify the situation and get a message to anyone had just flown out the window.

 _~~All the chances that have passed me by,  
Would it matter if I gave it one more try?~~_

" _Wait, what is going on here? Where are you taking us?"_

" _They're releasing us. Let's go before they change their minds."_

" _What? I don't get to say goodbye to my son? Michael, where are you going?"_

" _Mike's gotta job to do. Come on, Maddie, we gotta get going and find Fi before she kills somebody."_

" _Michael!"_

 _~~Would it matter at all?~~_

Unable to stand sitting around with nothing but his regrets for company, Michael went out in search of a ride to take him to the small remote airfield that transported commercial cargo and _other things_ to Miami.

Even though he'd arrived early, the crew was ready to go, but his handler apparently was nowhere to be seen. As he paced around the aircraft in its hangar, he thought about how he was going to find a way to get a message to his friends. He couldn't get this close and blow the opportunity to alert them… _again_.

" _What's going on?"_

" _I needed to protect you. I needed to protect all of us._ _I'm heading to Stockholm."_

 _That's all he would have needed to say,_ he berated himself once more. Except he had no idea what she would have done if he'd told her in code he was going on a suicide mission alone… _He couldn't risk it if—_

"Time to go, Westen," Agent Strong announced as he strolled in, the last one to arrive. Michael quickly settled into his seat, eager to be on his way. He took the mission brief and began to read, grateful that while detoxing had been a painful process not quite done, he was finally beginning to think clearly again.

 _~~I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone,  
Someone that I like better.~~  
_

Apparently their mission was now two-fold. In addition to the mystery man asking about him in Miami, his mother had been asking about him at all levels of government. Now they had to arrange some alone time for her and her son. As he pulled out a surveillance photograph of Madeline at the park she used to take him and Nate to as boys, he was conflicted as always about his mom. A tiny part of him had a grudging respect for the fact that she had gotten exactly what she wanted by harassing everyone.

 _~~Can you help me forget?  
Don't wanna feel like this forever...forever~~_

The rest of him had a multitude of emotions, annoyance at her jeopardizing the mission near the top of the list, fear that no matter how much he tried, he couldn't seem to keep her safe, especially if she-

"This is exactly why you were supposed to keep them out of it." Strong leaned across the aisle to tender his opinion on the status of the operation again. "The whole point of that little charade to convince them you were back in was so your friends didn't get involved. We need to get this under control before they-"

" _He_ contacted _them_ ," Michael cut him off. "And if you'd have let me read them into this from the beginning, they _would have_ _all_ _known_ what to do and we wouldn't be cleaning this up right now."

The rest of the man's rebuttal washed over him unheard as another conversation came to mind instead.

" _I know what I'm doing, Strong, stop second guessing me from the sidelines."_

" _Sidelines? Westen, this investigation has taken up eight years of my life. It's dragged me across three continents and it ended my marriage. And what does it all add up to? You, my friend…"_

 _~~What if I just pulled myself together,  
Would it matter at all?~~_

Andrew Strong had been after a terrorist network for eight years across three continents and all the man had to show for it was the agents who died in the process, ruined lives and wasted resources culminating in the Agency allowing _him_ to be used as a last ditch effort to finally get someone close to Burke and he'd accomplished more since he'd been given this lifeline to save his friends than the man had in eight years?

 _~~What if I just try not to remember,  
Would it matter at all?~~_

The truth of the situation hit him like a sucker punch as he shuffled through the surveillance pictures. He was caught up in Strong's obsession to take down Randall Burke, just as surely as his friends had been caught up in his own obsession, _to find the people who burned him, to take down the organization, to take out Anson Fullerton, to take down Tom Card…_ They were all paying the price now for his fixation then.

 _~~All the chances that have passed me by,  
Would it matter if I gave it one more try?~~_

Michael swallowed thickly and closed the folder, remembering Fiona's reaction when he had returned after being held in Vaughn's secret prison for months, setting him straight with a tightly packed punch over his so-called pouting that they hadn't missed him. _They'd done everything they could and then had gone on with their lives._ They'd all said it to him in one way or another over the years, that he expected everyone to put their lives on hold while he was chasing his ghosts. _Had they finally given up on him this time?_

 _~~If I live tomorrow,  
Would anybody care?~~_

He knew that having no contact with his friends was part of his cover, that if the CIA was watching them, eventually Burke's network would watch them as well. Part of it was making sure they were safe from the repercussions of being in contact with him. Part of the plan of pretending he was back in with the CIA was to give them all some kind of closure this time. If the mission had gotten him killed, they wouldn't be stuck forever waiting and wondering, that they could go on with their lives. _Only had it worked too well?_

 _~~Stuck in this sorrow  
Going nowhere.~~_

He knew exactly what the CIA and Strong were trying to do to him. His friends and his family were the assets he needed to operate. Cut him off from them, turn them into liabilities and they would have the means to control him, to put their unstoppable sonuvabitch on a short leash and make sure he behaved.

 _~~All the chances that have passed me by,~~_

The more frightening realization was their lives were all at the mercy of a man who was the epitome of the Peter Principle: _managers rise to the level of their incompetence_. Now he had to find a way to not only finish this mission and contact his friends, but keep them and himself safe from Strong's ineptitude.

 _~~Would it matter if I gave it one more try?~~_

He held fast to that same determination that had kept him going throughout the last nine months in hell.

" _Michael, all I wanted was to be by your side. I'm not leaving it again."_

He had promised her things would be different and he had broken that promise, though that never had been his intention. He had done what he had to do to save them all, though he certainly could have done a better job of letting them know that. _He prayed that he still had one more last chance to make it right._

 _~~Would it matter at all?~~_


	5. Yours to Hold

_**A/N**_ _: This next chapter was difficult, but made necessary by Matt Nix's choice to separate Michael and Fiona, so this is all on him. I don't own "Yours to Hold" by Skillet either, but the song just screamed Carlos and if we are to deal with the fact that Fiona let this guy into her life, then there was a reason. After all, it's not Carlos' fault he was no Michael Westen. Seriously, who else could fill our hero's shoes? Unfortunately, Fiona has to get over her hurts and abandonment issues before she figures that out._

 _This chapter also relates to the events in Purdy's Pal's own reaction to the addition of Carloser (LOL) into the cast called "Pale Imitation," as well as her brilliant piece about Madeline, "Blackbird's Song."_

 _This vignette takes place while Carlos, Sam and Jesse are sitting at a table listening in while Michael gets ready to rescue Fi in 7.02 "Forget Me Not," as Carlos recalls the events in his relationship with Fiona._

"Yours to Hold"

Sitting around waiting for someone else, someone you don't really know but detest and mistrust anyway, to save the woman you love is difficult at best. Harder still was her friends seem to be perfectly okay with the man who had apparently _just watched_ while his former girlfriend was kidnapped being the one they're counting on to keep her alive while she's in the hands of a cold blooded killer all because of that guy.

" _What this situation needs is a little Michael Westen…"_ Sam had assured him in the car on their way to the tactical command center hidden behind the building opposite of where his _amado_ was being held. The older man had sounded actually relieved that the bearded _intruso_ was there, though he had been cursing up a blue streak about his so-called _best friend_ he hadn't heard from in almost a year the minute before.

Carlos Cruz looked over his shoulder at the back of said man donning a flak jacket over his shirt… _qué clase de hombre lleva el rosa?_ He knew Sam and her other amigo Jesse Porter were keeping a close eye on him, making sure he didn't start anything else. That sucker punch he'd gotten off wasn't usually his style, but it was the least of what Michael Westen deserved for the way he had hurt Fiona Glenanne.

He remembered the first day he'd seen the flame haired beauty like it was yesterday. He had been getting his ass handed to him by a very large brawny man who was on something… _PCP, crack, whatever_ and either the tazer had missed its mark or the guy was so chemically enhanced that it didn't matter.

Next thing he knew, _Goliath_ had hit the pavement and a petite party girl wearing a fancy cocktail dress four inch heels and smirk was standing over the unconscious mass of muscle holding a broken brick.

" _You owe me one, muchacho… What?"_ she had demanded because he was, he knew, gaping at her open mouthed and speechless, just as stunned as the inert form at his feet by her sudden appearance. _"It takes a lot of skill to hit someone with a brick, you know. It's all in the wrist."_

Somehow he'd managed to find one of Lou's cards with his number on it, telling her if she ever needed work she could call his boss. It was a lame way to slip her his phone number, but it was the best he could come up with at that moment. He was woozy from the hits to his head and bleeding more than a little.

 _~~I see you standing here  
But you're so far away~~_

He'd been just as surprised when he'd seen her actually standing in Lou's office, sitting down a skip at the front desk. who was looking a lot worse for the wear. _That had been over six years ago now._ Back then the young Latino, who'd managed to get out of the barrio and into college thanks to bail bondsman they both now worked for regularly, had seen her here and there over the years, bringing in bounties until her regular appearances thinned out to once in a while before becoming not at all a little over two years ago.

 _~~Starving for your attention  
You don't even know my name~~_

" _¡Que demonios! Fiona fue arrestado?"_ and Lou had turned on the television to sensational reports of a bombing at the British Consulate which one of his best trackers was being arrested for perpetrating. Three months later, he'd learned she'd been released from prison and that was the last he'd heard for months on end.

Then mysteriously she was back, looking thinner and smaller, with an air of barely suppressed violence radiating off of her. Lou had been immediately suspicious. Magically her record had been scrubbed clean.

 _~~You're going through so much  
But I know that I could be the one to hold you~~_

Whatever had happened to Fiona while she'd been gone, she'd been deeply wounded by it. Her clothes, her hair, her posture, her speech… everything about her screamed that she had been hurt and very badly, but he could truly see it in her eyes every time she looked at him. _Su corazón se dolía de su angustia_.

 _~~Every single day  
I find it hard to say  
I could be yours alone~~_

Carlos turned and glared at the man who had been responsible for causing her such pain. Jesse shifted forward in his chair, but there was no need for concern. The dark haired spy was too occupied with giving instructions to the men carrying the M249 machine guns lining up near the windows of the building and here and now was not the place or the time to let _el cabrón_ know what he really thought of him.

~~You will see someday  
 _That all along the way_

 _I was yours to hold  
I was yours to hold~~  
_

He recalled the day Fiona had first come back into the office looking for work. Gone were the designer clothes, replaced by rugged looking denims and combat boots, and Lou had been concerned. They'd both heard the rumors of a _perra blanca flaca_ who'd been busting heads from Little Havanna to Overtown and back. But he'd vouched for Fiona and insisted that his surrogate father needed to give her a chance.

Then the petite woman with the wild reputation had snatched up the three nearest bench warrants and said she would be back. When his boss had called the Florida Department of Financial Services, Bureau of Agent and Agency Licensing, he'd been shocked to learn that she _did have_ a limited surety agent license.

Lou had been even more dumbfounded when Fiona Glenanne had returned two days later with the trio bound and gagged in the back of what appeared to be a late model stolen land yacht. As much as he had wanted to object, Carlos knew the man was not going to turn down three prized prisoners in one day. However, the owner had insisted that his newest hire take his most trusted employee along from now on, as much to keep an eye out for his own liabilities as to watch the back of the _mujer salvaje_ _loco._

~~I see you walking by  
Your hair always hiding your face~~

Clenching his jaw, he watched while Sam got up to talk with _el bastardo_ and again the tall bald man moved into a more defensive position. He didn't know much about Jesse; this was the first time they had really worked together. Señor Porter was around a lot less than Señor Axe, or _el varado viejo perro licores_ as Fiona had once called him. But today the older man hadn't looked or acted anything like he'd come to expect from the easy going, always drinking retired naval officer she'd introduced him to months ago.

~~I wonder why you've been hurting  
I wish I had some way to say~~

In the beginning, Fiona had kept it strictly professional between them. She was frequently on the phone with Sam and just as frequently in a bad mood at the end of the conversation. She often took long circuitous routes to their destinations, as if she was checking for something but never finding it. Both of these became less frequent as time went on. Occasionally, the redhead would ask him about himself.

~~You're going through so much  
Don't you know that I could be the one to hold you?~~

He talked about his large family, about his mother, all his younger brothers and sisters still at home. He neglected to mention what his old neighborhood was like or the gang he'd run with. She mentioned that she was the youngest in her family and that seemed to make her sad for reasons he could never fathom.

 _~~Every single day  
I find it hard to say  
I could be yours alone~~_

He told her about Lou, about how their employer had taken a young hothead who'd lost a father to street violence off those streets and gotten him into college. Again, he had been economical with the truth when it came to the details. But this hadn't seemed to upset her; she hadn't said much about her own past. He had even taken her to the local community center he volunteered at when he wasn't working where he ran several programs to see to it the neighborhood kids had somewhere safe to hang out after school.

 _~~You will see someday  
That all along the way_

 _I was yours to hold  
I was yours to hold~~_

Sam came back to the table, looking grim and saying nothing. Carlos couldn't understand why they were all so confident in Michael. From what he'd been told and what he'd overheard, _el_ _pendejo_ had been gone for almost a year with no word to anyone and now they were going to be shooting into the building with some serious firepower. _How the hell did he know that Fiona wouldn't get caught in the crossfire?_

~~I'm stretching but you're just out of reach  
You should know  
I'm ready when you're ready for me~~

The young Latino closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, trying to keep himself under control. From what they'd said, this plan was better than the trap they had apparently all been about to walk into; but, he still sincerely wished Fiona's ex had stayed wherever the hell he'd been. Carlos thought about the day she'd finally _let him in_ , the tears in her eyes when she'd thanked him for the gift he'd gotten her because of momentary slip on her part, giving him just a glimpse into who she was and he'd responded.

~~And I'm waiting for the right time  
For the day I catch your eye  
To let you know  
That I'm yours to hold~~

She hadn't given him a lot of details about Michael. _It was over between them and she wanted a new life_. She'd told him more about her time in prison, which infuriated him when Madeline had told him she'd gone to jail for Michael. _The nightmares that woke her up, the whimpering she did in her sleep, the sad distant look she would suddenly get in her eyes when they were at Madeline's house before she brushed it off._ She didn't really have to say how much the _hijo de puta_ had hurt her; the man's own mother had had plenty to say on that particular subject and then, _that insanity when her brother had come to town…!_

 _~~Every single day  
I find it hard to say  
I could be yours alone~~_

 _(You're so far away)_

 _Finally, finally, finally it was over._ Fiona was alive, the maniac who'd kidnapped her was dead and it was all he could do to restrain himself from taking another swing at Michael for putting her in danger in the first place. But as he approached the man from behind, all he could see was _su bella mujer_ exiting from the building safe and apparently unharmed. He ran towards the redhead and swept her into his arms.

~~You will see someday  
 _That all along the way_

 _I was yours to hold  
I was yours to hold~~_

 _She was his to hold again._ He kissed her, pouring his relief and his passion into it. Embracing her tightly, he picked her up and turned her so that her back was to her former lover. He could feel the gaze of her ex-boyfriend upon them as their mouths and their bodies molded to one another. Finally opening his eyes, Carlos stared at the man who had saved Fiona, letting him know that he _was_ grateful, but also furious.

 _~~I'm stretching but you're just out of reach~~  
_

And once Fiona was checked over by the paramedics and he brought the car around, Carlos planned on letting Michael Westen know how unwelcome he was in their lives before they parted company _for good_.

 _~~I'm ready when you're ready for me~~_

Because no one was going to hurt Fiona Glenanne while _he_ was around to have anything to say about it…


	6. Believe

_**A/N**_ _: And with the 100_ _th_ _episode, we finally got to see Michael and Fiona in Ireland, although we were screaming at the screen when "Dublin 2001" was flashed up there (see Purdy's Pal's, "Who We Once Were," Chapter 9 for an explanation as to why we were yelling). I am sticking with the timeline we worked out regarding Michael's time in Ireland based on the information given in 2.15 "Sins of Omission" and not what was flashed on the screen during 7.02 "Forget Me Not."_

 _The full story of their mission in Derry, which was referenced in the flashbacks in 7.02, is revealed in Chapters Ten and Eleven of that same wonderful story. While you're there, stick around and have a read. It's a brilliant series on the intimate details of their early Irish relationship from Fiona's POV. I will get back to Michael's POV on that topic one day. Of course, I'm now also two weeks behind #burnerclub, but once again RL has cut into all of my writing time_ _oh well!_

 _This vignette covers Michael's POV during the events of 7.02 as perfectly captured by Skillet again in their song "Believe."_

"Believe"

" _I have a plan to fix this! I will save Fiona and the only one that will die will be Gamble!"_

As he rode in silence towards the abandoned marine warehouse at the end of Deer Run Road, Michael couldn't get the picture on Sam's cell phone out of his mind… _Fiona gagged and no doubt bound, managing to look both frightened and furious all at the same time._ While Strong had blathered on about his precious operation and his friends had shouted the man down, _because her safety was damned well more important than the spy games they were playing_ , that was the image that had been scorched onto his retinas, steeling his determination to save her with another grand gesture.

 _Too bad he hadn't been able to figure out how to do day to day life with her and prevented this whole sorry mess._

On the plane all the way from the Dominican Republic, he had gone through the intel reports and the pictures they had taken of his family and friends. Part of him was angry at the Agency was spying on them and part of him recognized how ridiculous that was. He'd recalled sitting upstairs at the loft when he thought she was going back to Ireland, thumbing through a few surveillance photos that he'd kept of her. _Then he'd been willing to let her go for a chance to get back in._

 _Or so he'd thought until he'd put two slugs into Tom Strickler, choosing her life above his career without hesitation._

Michael couldn't help the way his thumb had brushed over her cheekbones in the image he'd held onto while in the jet, longing to put those stray strands of hair away behind her ear that were hanging in her face in the snapshot _. He'd made her so many promises and he'd broken them._ It hadn't always been in his control, but he'd hurt her enough times that he would be hard pressed to come up with an apology that would suffice. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try his best.

 _~~I'm still trying to figure out how to tell you I was wrong  
I can't fill the emptiness inside since you've been gone~~_

But while the enormity of trying to save her life outweighed the burden of his complicity in wrecking their relationship, Michael found himself wondering if even after he'd rescued her, because he refused to even consider the possibility that she wouldn't live through this, that perhaps he'd be too late to save _them…_ It had been his lifeline in the DR, the hope that somehow when this was over they could be together and free of the CIA, just them like she had always wanted.

 _~~So is it you or is it me?  
I know I said things that I didn't mean~~_

But seeing Fiona come home with another man in tow had been just the onset of his misery. _"Yeah, Lou's all hot and bothered about the Burgren skip. But I said we'd handle it. Right now we got a more serious situation here and that's priority."_ He'd recognized Carlos Cruz from the photos, but had assumed they were just working together at the time.

" _I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you all wrapped up in this."_ As he'd watched her embrace and then kiss the younger man, he'd recalled her parading Jon Campbell around, making sure to let him know that she was moving on, that she was giving him exactly what he'd said he wanted. But, she'd had truly been just trying to make him jealous and they both had known it _. This had been different_. He'd been sure she hadn't known she was being watched in her own home.

 _~~But you should've known me by now  
You should've known me~~_

" _Hey, you got nothing to be sorry about. I just get pissed that you still got to deal with Michael's stuff even when he's not around."_ Except _that man_ would have _never_ gotten the chance _to be around_ if _he_ hadn't been forced to leave….

" _Ok, I'm gonna go take a shower."_

 _~~If you believed  
When I said  
I'd be better off without you  
Then you never really knew me at all~~_

As the Latino had laid his hand over Fiona's and then had leaned in to kiss her again, the combination of the knowledge that the guy was living in her house, _because there was no way in hell it was the other way around_ , and the look she had given him had been a knife through his heart. _All the hours he'd spent dreaming of seeing her again to see her like this?_

 _~~If you believed  
When I said  
That I wouldn't be thinking about you  
You thought you knew the truth but you're wrong~~_

He'd belatedly realized that she was now living in old Schmidt's house, which explained how they'd gotten the cameras in there without her knowledge, but the mystery of the how, when and why of it was something that he hadn't been able to contemplate in his current state at that time. _All he could see was the future he'd dreamed of slipping away._

 _~~You're all that I need  
Just tell me that you still believe~~_

 _The hardest part about doing surveillance on someone you know is staying objective. Work can quickly become very personal when the person you're watching… every look… every gesture… reminds you of the past._ Thinking about the first time he'd seen her in the back of the Wishing Well in Dublin had him regretting all the time lost, despite the reasons he'd had back then for doing what he'd done, both good and bad, suddenly now none of them seemed reason enough.

Desperate to divert his dark thoughts, the disgraced spy glanced out of the corner of his eye at the stony face of the agent who was now driving the car he'd run off with to stop his friends from walking into an ambush. He'd been just like that once upon a time during those early days when he too had lived for the job, nothing but flag and country for him.

From the day he'd left to join the Rangers, he'd only been reminded _why he'd left_ whenever he came back and his mom never did understand. Rayna Kopec's words returned to him then: _People with happy families don't become spies. A bad childhood is the perfect background for covert ops - you don't trust anyone, you're used to getting smacked around, and you never get homesick._ Another rare time where she'd let slip that they had more than love of the game in common.

" _Michael, I just wanted to know if you were alive! Is that too much to ask?"_

Conversations they'd had in the early days after he'd been forced to come home about _why he didn't call, why he didn't write, why he didn't want her to know where he was, why he didn't want to talk about his work_ , all came back to him standing in that empty staircase, knowing there were directional mic's pointed at him and his frustration had exploded.

" _Yes, it's too much to ask! You can't call, you can't write! You just have to wait for me to come back."_

It was _even worse_ now that he was back at the Agency involuntarily _. She had no idea how much he'd wanted to let them know from the start what was going on._ He had lied to them all exactly for this reason. Because he had been forbidden to let them know, this was the next best way to try to prevent exactly what he had been dealing with right then.

 _~~I can't undo the things that led us to this place~~_

He'd gotten off the plane just in time to be informed that the surveillance team had his mom headed into the Federal Building and they had an intercept arranged there. As usual where Madeline was concerned, he was so conflicted. _She could have blown his cover and the mission, as well as gotten him killed, but her actions had also gotten him to Miami_.

" _Michael, can I hold my son? Is that allowed?"_

That tiny part of him, so small it was almost non-existent, the part that still craved his mother's concern and comfort had reveled in that hug while the rest of him scoffed internally at his foolishness. _It had almost hurt more than it'd helped._

 _~~But I know there's something more to us than our mistakes~~_

He had wanted desperately to pass a message to her, to let her and his friends know what was really going on. But he had also known he was being watched. They'd forced him to choose that stairwell for a reason. There had been a time he might have chanced passing intel to his mom, but after what had happened with Gamble, he couldn't risk it.

 _~~So is it you or is it me?_

Glancing in the side mirror, he saw Sam and Jesse traveling in the car behind him, surrounded both front and rear by the ubiquitous black SUVs. Michael bit his bottom lip, frustrated once again that what he'd been forced to do to save his friends almost a year ago and the incompetence of the man who'd made that deal had led to what had happened today.

For just a fleeting moment, a faint smile graced his face, remembering their bickering about who was going to pay for Sam's new tires. But that was quickly followed by the frightening memory of them being pinned down blocks by a couple of gang bangers with heavy artillery behind a no-sale green Jeep SUV up on. The dark haired spy recalled the pride he'd felt when Fiona had capped one of them before being pulled back down by _that guy who was going to get her killed!_

 _~~I know I'm so blind when we don't agree~~_

But they were still getting attacked from higher ground with a semi-automatic weapon and he'd had to pitch their rescue as the preservation of some valuable assets in order to get _permission_ to save them. Strong was more worried about him being seen than them dying and again the bastard had been more than willing to let his friends take the lead _… they were good enough to be used but not good enough to be read into the situation…_ as they had staked out Dexter Gamble's house, willing to take care of an apparently mutual enemy even in his long unexplained absence.

 _~~But you should've known me by now~~_

And lying on that roof top at 3707 W 45th in Miami, watching what had once been _his team_ through the scope of his _welcome home_ gift, he'd tried to stay objective as ordered. But no matter how diligently he had worked to stay focused on that task, at some point his mind had begun to wander, thinking about all theoperations had they run as a team over the years after he'd been burned… How much he had missed working with them, hanging out with them….

That regret had been sharpened by Sam's admission that his best buddy _had missed him_ and the longing to _talk to_ _her_ , _to embrace_ _her_ , had grown with every touch the interloper had shared _with her_ instead of him until he found himself not looking at Fiona hiding in an azalea bush anymore… _He was back in Belfast at the Black Sand sixteen years ago…._

 _~~You should've known me~~_

 _It had been the start of a dance that had closed the bar down, as they had moved like two halves of a whole, a dance that had ended with them snogging like a couple of teenagers in the alley instead of a pair of seasoned operatives, before better sense had overtaken what had overcome them both. He'd gone against orders contacting her directly…_

 _~~If you believed  
When I said  
I'd be better off without you  
Then you never really knew me at all~~_

"They've lost visual on Glenanne!" The tech's words had torn him from his reverie, bringing the present sharply back into focus. Scanning the area through the scope of the AR-15, he searched desperately for some sign of her.

" _Strong, what the hell is going on down there?" How could they have lost her…? She'd been right there! "Strong, what the hell is_ going on _down there?"_ Panic had welled up quickly as his demands for answers had gone unmet until he had heard the words that turned his blood to ice.

" _He got her. The son of a bitch took Fiona."_

 _~~If you believed  
When I said  
That I wouldn't be thinking about you  
You thought you knew the truth but you're wrong~~_

Exiting the car, he watched the SRT van empty its contents of M249 machine guns and the men who were going to operate them. He also watched as Jesse and Sam moved towards the building, forming a barrier between himself and…

But anger was not his dominant emotion… _the other was just an annoying distraction and he didn't need any of those at the moment._ He had enough self-recrimination and guilt to deal with as it was. Staring at the burned out hulk of the Ford F150 blazing away on an empty street near multiple fenced off empty lots had left him with that same sick gut clenching feeling he'd had on the street outside Derek Poole's house, surrounded by fireman and desperate to find Fi.

 _~~You're all that I need  
Just tell me that you still believe~~_

" _It's empty, no bodies. That's a good thing."_ The man's callousness had known no bounds. Shrugging Strong had continued. _"If he wanted Glenanne dead, she'd be in that truck."_ Michael could barely contain his wrath and his handler had been too dumb to know when to back off, following him as he'd turned away. _"You got something to say to me?"_

 _He'd had plenty to say to that jackass! "She shouldn't have been alone in that alley. If you had listened to me…"_

" _Now's not the time to point fingers, we've got a job to do."_ And then he'd lost it, he'd been both frantic and furious.

" _Don't tell me about the job! These are my friends, my family!"_ He'd slammed Strong up against the cruiser with his both hands clutching his labels, stopping himself from breaking his neck if nothing else. _The CIA officer's obsession with Randall Burke and his network had caused this mess and the bastard hadn't cared who got hurt along the way._

Agent Strong had cursed at him and then he'd released him, as the voice in his head that so often sounded like Larry lately had cautioned him: _Careful, kid, watch that temper of yours, not in front of witnesses. You're better than that._

" _You think blaming me is gonna help anything?"_

" _I don't blame you, I blame myself for listening to you!"_ Michael had tried to walk away again, but the Company man had followed along, lecturing him about the realities of the situation, _the best way to help her was to finish the job…_

 _Nothing he hadn't heard a million times, nothing he hadn't said himself to someone else a million times over too. Was it really Strong's fault or had it been his own obsessiveness with getting back in all those years that was responsible? But the only thing he'd seen was the burned out car and the only thing he knew was that saving Fiona wasn't a job..._

Michael turned as Strong walked past him to speak to the SRT commander about their little change of plans for the assault and he was reminded again that although he had always been better about minimizing the collateral damage than anyone else he knew at the Agency, there had been plenty of people hurt by what he'd done over the years.

" _You're using my friends as bait!"_ They were assets to Strong, a means to an end, but they were the people he cared about the most. There were a reasons spies only had assets and liabilities in their lives, targets and mission objectives…

" _We'll do what he can to keep your friends safe, Michael. We got a job to do here."_

But since he'd already let his friends walk into one ambush today, since he'd already let Fiona get kidnapped while he'd sat his ass on a rooftop following orders, there was no way in hell he was going to let that happen to Sam and Jesse.

 _~~ So is it you or is it me?~~_

And the looks on his friends' face when he'd gotten out of that stolen Company car, when he'd had to admit he was there with the CIA shadowing their investigation, spying on them instead of working with them, were far worse than the momentary sting of a sucker punch he probably deserved, although not from the man who'd actually delivered it.

" _Nine months, Mike… Not one call, not one letter, nothing. This…? This is how I find out my best friend is alive?"_

" _This is not how I wanted to do this…"_

 _~~I know I said things that I didn't mean~~_

 _None of this was the way he wanted it._ Having to endure Strong's blustering idiocy was one thing, letting him get Fiona, his friends and probably half of a Special Response Team killed was another. He had missed working with his friends, being with his friends, although he knew the two men understood better than the women in his life had, it still hurt.

 _~~But you should've known me by now~~_

As he donned the body armor, after directing the SRT to its positions and speaking quietly with Sam, reassured that his best friend found his strategy as sound a one as available for their present circumstances, his thoughts fell back on his first job with her, the first time she had trusted him with assignment for the cause: a trip to Derry to pick up guns for the Real IRA. But her mission had actually been one for the Provo… to make sure that the weapons delivered to radical offshoot group would fail. And it had also been the first they'd made love while unaccompanied on that road trip.

It was also the first time he'd realized that they were on the same side and, though he had later discovered later the incredible irony that Fiona had thought she was the spy deceiving him, an ordinary guy from Kilkenny, which had come in very useful while he'd tried to explain himself when she'd discovered he was the spy. Michael touched the spot over his heart where the beer bottle she'd flung at him when she'd confronted him had landed and broken, leaving him cut and scarred in more ways than one. All in all he'd been lucky she hadn't just shot him and disposed of his body.

 _~~You should've known me~~_

Now that same organ was threatening to cleave in two inside his chest at the thought that he even though he _would_ save her today, _he had already lost her_. But Michael Westen was nothing if not an optimist under all his cynicism.

"Alright, Westen, it's your show. We do it your way this time. Make it count."

 _Was he about to get her killed now while trying to rescue her? Could he really be sure that she was going to be able to execute his plan? What if she was tied up somewhere that she couldn't drop to the floor? What if Gamble used her as a human shield?_ The ache of her potential loss spurned his determination. _No, Fiona would not die today. She couldn't._

 _~~If you believed  
When I said  
I'd be better off without you~~_

He was so focused on watching the door, his casual stance belaying all the tension in his body while waiting to see her emerge whole and unharmed. The rest of the response team had swept into the building to clear it before he'd even gotten himself up off the concrete and he'd heard the shouts that _she was alive, she was fine_ , so he'd held his ground.

The tactical part of his brain knew there was a potential threat behind, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered to him was coming out, relieved smile lighting up her whole countenance and she had never looked more beautiful.

And he had never felt more devastated in his entire life than when those slim hands, that had struck him but also had touched him with such tenderness, wrapped themselves around the another man's face, that those arms that had held him close where around that other man's neck and that mouth was pressed to someone else's, kissing him passionately.

 _~~Then you never really knew me at all~~_

 _He_ picked her up in his embrace, turning her so that her back was to him… _he had turned her back on him_ … _his_ fingers were threading through her long auburn locks… Michael was frozen, unable to blink, unable to swallow, unable to think.

"There he is the man of the hour. That was one balls-out crazy move but you made it work." Strong was beaming, his unspoken glee for the return of the old Michael Westen evident in his voice as he slipped on his sunglasses. "Let's get down to the DR and finish this operation." _As if there was anything he wanted more than to be done with this mess_.

Fiona buried her face in the younger man's shoulder, as she had once with him in a dingy Belfast bar a lifetime ago, refusing to look at him. As the senior field agent went past him, the other man finally looked at him, equal parts gratitude and grimace on his face. Michael couldn't watch any more. He turned slowly and walked away.

 _~~If you believed  
When I said  
That I wouldn't be thinking about you~~  
You thought you knew the truth but you're wrong~~  
_

The conversation with Jesse and Sam had gone marginally better, though it would have been hard for it to have gone worse. Jesse's request that he just skip the bugs and pick up a phone next time before they were knee deep in a suicide mission again was a reasonable one. Sam was understandably upset about the level of surveillance that was on him, but as a former undercover man himself at least understood it _in principle_ , though neither of them was really thrilled.

"For what it's worth, I had orders."

"Yea well in this situation,'I had orders' doesn't really cut it, buddy."

"I'm sorry," and he was, more so than they would ever know, that he had hurt the people that he cared the most about.

"Look, we're just glad that you're okay. And Mike, we know you can't tell us the whole story. But we've seen enough of the board to know that you're into something pretty heavy. So, if you need a hand, let us know."

And it had been an enormous relief to know that at least Jesse and Sam forgave him. _If they could forgive him…_

 _~~Cuz you're all that I want  
Don't you even know me at all?~~_

The paramedic had just finished binding up her arm when he approached her. When she turned and saw him, Fiona started for just a moment before regaining her composure. It made him smile inside for just a second that he had managed to sneak up on her, but only for a second.

"Hello, Michael…" He could see the kaleidoscope of conflicted emotions in those beautiful blue-green eyes that he could lose himself in for the rest of his life if she'd let him.

"You okay?"

"It's just a few stitches... the glass in the windows. It could have been worse."

 _That she was obviously struggling was exactly what he needed to see. She had just been letting him know how much he'd hurt her before. He could accept that. He certainly had earned it. Her forgiveness usually involved some pain…_

"You remembered my story…"

"I'd never forget it."

She smiled at him, a tiny thing, but a little sparks light big fires. She was breathing heavily, caught between moving towards him and retreating and he knew she was conflicted, torn, which meant she still cared, and if she still cared…

"Fi…" He didn't know if she would punch his lights out or fall into his arms and he would take either at that moment.

But she did neither. A quick glance at the ground and she was moving towards him, a light hand on his arms, a light brush of her lips to his cheek, a light whisper into his ear…

"Take care…"

And she slipped by him, leaving him frozen to the spot, stuck in a fog of memory as she walked away.

" _Who's tha girl?"_

He'd already known who she was; he'd just wanted to hear O'Dowd confirm what he already knew. His first handler back in Ireland, masquerading as a bartending at the Wishing Well which had been their designated method of contact, had been keen to discourage his interest in her, telling him she was already taken, wanting to remind him that Sean Gleanne was the asset he was supposed to be cultivating and not his little sister. But he'd refused to be diswayed.

" _Taken? You see thot? Thot's tha kiss you give when tis over._

He knew perfectly well that she'd been listening to the conversation between himself and O'Dowd all those years in that smoky Dublin pub before she'd brushed passed that man by the door like she'd brushed past him just now and had heard what's he'd said and, though he wished to God he didn't, he knew exactly what that kiss had been meant to convey. Michael turned slowly and watched her walk away, knowing that she fully intended to walk out of his life too.

 _~~You're all that I need  
Just tell me that you still believe~~_


	7. Rolling in the Deep

**A/N** : _This next chapter covers Fiona's POV for the events of 7.01 "A New Deal" through 7.02 "Forget Me Not." I don't own "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele, but I think the words lend themselves perfectly to understanding where Fiona's head was at in choosing the lesser of the two men in her scenario._

 _This chapter also shares the common backstory with Purdy's Pal's terrific tale regarding Fiona and Carloser called "Pale Imitation," as well as her brilliant piece about Madeline, "Blackbird's Song," so there are several references to things that occurred in those stories._

 _This vignette takes place during the time Dexter Gamble held Fiona prisoner while awaiting a phone call from Michael._

"Rolling in the Deep"

" _I'm alittle busy right now, Sam."_

" _Yea, Fi, look, no matter what you're doing, I need you to put that on hold for a second, okay? I need you to meet me and Jesse at Carlito's in—"_

She had known something was up when she had gotten the call. Her finely tuned sense of impending trouble that had kept her alive all those years growing up in Ireland and during her service to the Cause, her ability to read people that had kept her alive as a gun runner and later a bounty hunter had gone off.

" _I can't put it on hold, I'm on a job. I'm bringing in a skip."_

However, spending over a year of lying to herself in defense of her heart and her sanity had dulled that edge. Once Seamus had helped her resolve her Greyson Miller problem and her older brother had seen to it the other little issue that had been buzzing around in the background was dealt with, she'd been freed to immerse herself in her new world with her new man and the Irishwoman had done so happily.

So Fiona had ignored the buzz at the back of her brain, ignored Sam's protestations that Carlos was a big boy who could handle this solo and hung up on him. _She_ hadn't been about to abandon her partner.

The brutal assault on Miller and his minions had certainly slaked her blood lust for some time to come she'd been sure and unlike a certain man _who_ _used to be_ in her life, Fiona had been made to see and deal with the fallout that her, and yes _their,_ actions had had on the people around them. She was done with all that and bagging six figure bad guys would be quite enough to keep her occupied and content.

 _Maybe if she had listened to that hint then, she wouldn't be in the position she was in right now._

But the bail jumper had been down and out, Carlos grinning and shaking his hand slightly after punching the bruiser's lights out when the bean bag round to the chest had failed to put him all the way down.

And then he had kissed her… right there… right in the middle of a job… it had reminded her of someone else she'd lost back in Ireland a long time ago for just a second before she'd shoved that memory away and her phone had gone off again. She'd warned Sam that whatever it was had better be important.

 _~~There's a fire starting in my heart  
Reaching a fever pitch, it's bringing me out the dark~~_

The look on Sam's face had told her what… _or more accurately who_ … this had really been about before she'd ever sat down. The fact that he'd ordered her the kind of beer he liked had been another good indication she wouldn't like what he'd have to say and want to stay. But she'd heard him out in silence.

" _If I had known this was about Michael, I wouldn't have come. "_ Sam at least had had the good grace to look apologetic, but that hadn't stopped her from pointing out the obvious. _"I haven't seen him in nine months. Neither have you…. I have a life now. I have a new house, a new business, a new man."_

On the way over, she'd almost convinced herself this'd had something to do with Elsa's surprise party.

 _~~Finally I can see you crystal clear  
Go 'head and sell me out and I'll lay your ship bare~~_

Jesse and Sam had both been quick to assure her that all they required was babysitting Madeline. _Fair enough_ , she'd sent Carlos to do the same when that business with Miller had gotten too hot. The older woman might have been Michael's mother, but Mrs. Westen was still family regardless of what her son had chosen to do and his enemies still sniffing around would be dealt with as severely as hers had been.

" _She has enough on her mind right now. Charlie's custody hearing is tomorrow."_

" _Charlie? Maddie's getting custody of Nate's Kid? Did I miss something? You guys don't tell me anything, seriously."_

That was because Jesse had been too busy with his new job to hang around with them much anymore, but she had been more concerned at that moment with why Madeline was getting a custody hearing for her grandson than why the formerly tight knit quartet had now become a relatively disconnected trio.

 _~~See how I leave with every piece of you  
Don't underestimate the things that I will do~~_

Carlos had gone to see the little boy's mother in jail at Madeline's urging once Ruth had gotten out of the prison infirmary following a drunken driving accident on her way back to Miami and her new lover had been the one to convince Fiona to pay for the ex-Mrs. Westen's court ordered treatment program.

" _Ruth fell off the wagon. She's in rehab. She's not fit to be a mother."_

And while she may have spent some time in an alcoholic haze following her release from CIA prison, she would never have done that if it would have endangered a child _… If she'd had a child, this would have…_

Fiona swallowed thickly and blinked back the tears either because she sat bound to a chair while Gamble paced the empty dusty room she was imprisoned in because someone had hired the madman to investigate her former absentee lover or because that future no longer existed or some of both.

" _All the more reason to figure out who this guy is and what he wants, let's face it, Mike's enemies are our enemies."_ And unfortunately that had turned out to be all too true, but she hadn't known that then.

" _Fine, but I'm doing this for Madeline."_

And she had flounced off to spend some quality time with her ex-boyfriend's mother playing guard dog.

 _~~There's a fire starting in my heart  
Reaching a fever pitch  
And it's bringing me out the dark~~_

Watching her new boyfriend interact so naturally with Michael's nephew had made her both happy and sad, as it often had when she would remember how uncomfortable the spy had been around his own brother's offspring. As she had surveyed the street outside his boyhood home for trouble, Fiona hadn't been able to stop the feeling of melancholy that had come over her then. Carlos had fit in seamlessly with Charlie and Maddie, from the first time she had arrived after Seamus' departure to find that her Latin lover was Mrs. Westen's new best friend, integrating in ways Michael had never been able to.

 _~~The scars of your love remind me of us  
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all~~_

And while his mother had ranted about giving up smoking and just calling the police to resolve their problems, the ghost of her former flame, who had been downright chatty while she'd been trying resolve her tactical issues a few months ago, mercifully had had no commentary on the situation.

" _We can take care of it ourselves, just like we always do."_

Since the last thing she had needed at that moment was any more reason to think about the contrast between what she had lost with Michael Westen and what she had built for herself out of the ashes of her life. The dark haired man wasn't even there and he still managed to keep hurting her somehow.

 _~~The scars of your love, they leave me breathless  
I can't help feeling~~_

But the ride from NW North River Drive to the State DCF offices on NW Second Avenue in downtown had been thankfully short even in the mid-afternoon traffic as she had escorted Madeline to the custody hearing while her new man had remained behind to watch over the older woman's grandson. Because she had found herself imagining the pout that would have been firmly on Michael's face, who would have decided watching over his mother was more palatable than his nephew, instead of the relaxed smile and adoring kiss that had been on Carlos' countenance as he'd told her to be careful, _mi corazón._

 _~~We could have had it all  
Rolling in the deep  
You had my heart inside of your hand  
And you played it, to the beat~~_

Sam's call had sent her flying through the corridors. Their mystery man was somewhere here in the building with Michael's mother and she was going to finish this with a well-placed shot between the eyes after her well-placed shot between the legs had forced the man to tell her everything. But the conference room had been empty and her panic had risen. _What if he had kidnapped Madeline?_

 _But Dexter Gamble had managed to kidnap her instead…_

Fiona had a flashback to that moment where the man pacing in front of her had turned the tables on her. One moment he had been a gardener who needed to get out of her way and the next there had been a rag with chloroform clamped over her face while her stronger opponent had pinned her down.

" _Jayzuz! Sean wa' right when he said America had changed ya..."_ Her brother's words were the ones to come back to haunt her this time, as she fought down the urge to erupt into violence. It would do her no good here. Whoever this man was who knew the truth about Michael Westen, he had gotten the drop on her and there wasn't much she could do but be ready for whatever plan Sam came up with.

Her chin dropped to her chest momentarily as the reality that she was depending on Sam Axe to come up with a grand gesture to save her life penetrated to her core and she blinked back a tear, refusing to let herself miss Michael, never mind hope that he would somehow ride to the rescue. _He was gone._

Or was he…?

" _How the hell d'you hit that guy?"_

" _Lucky shot, I guess…"_

They had been pinned down, running out of ammo… She had taken out one of the men before Carlos had pulled her back down behind the Jeep up on blocks and Seamus' warning about her Latin lover getting them killed trying to protect her had been ringing in her ears when they had decided to offer themselves up as target practice and then suddenly the gang banger wielding the assault rifle… _wasn't._

And as she'd stood there staring around the suddenly too quiet car lot, she had felt it… _He was there!_ It had made no sense whatsoever, but somehow the Irishwoman had just known there'd been something more to it. Standing there analyzing where the shot had to have come from, it had been her older sibling's voice that had been in her head again. " _But ya know he'll be back one day an' thot fella o' yars… I can tell ya now is nae gonna like it one bit an' then whot d'ya think is gonna happen next?"_

So, instead of walking over to that abandoned Mercury Marquis, she had followed the others inside.

 _~~Baby, I have no story to be told  
But I've heard one on you  
And I'm gonna make your head burn~~_

In retrospect, as she had spent the last hour tied to a chair waiting for _Michael Westen_ to show up, it might have been good to know if there was any possibility of him actually doing so. While she'd sat in that ancient office chair back at the body shop, fidgeting and kicking the table, wanting to be anywhere but there, the voices in her head had stopped whispering, talking over the top of each other instead.

" _I know there is no way I'm going to get her back. It's been too long, too many things have happened."_

" _Relationships have survived worse,"_ Michael had reassured Dan Tesmond, but really was talking to her.

" _Nothing is going to happen because Michael and I are finished!"_ she had shouted at her brother _._

" _Whotever ya say, sis…"_ had been Shay's knowing rejoinder before they had gone off to war with Miller _._

Suddenly, Sam's voice had pulled Fiona out of her disconcerted reverie. "You alright, Fi?"

" _Fine…."_ But their expressions had clearly said they had known differently. Staring back out at what could have been a killing field except for a bullet from the blue, her heart was torn again, as it always was when _he_ was involved. _"After nine months, we're still dealing with the fall out of Michael Westen."_

Dixon showing up had given her just the excuse she'd needed to get out of there and she had taken it.

 _~~Think of me in the depths of your despair  
Make a home down there  
As mine sure won't be shared~~_

As she had stalked around the area and made her way back towards where Carlos had relocated Sam's ride, she'd let her gaze linger on the silver car. Only a few people who could have made that shot… _No, Michael did not get to just drop in, turn her world upside down and invade her heart again because he would just leave again when he was done like he always did._ It didn't matter if he'd been there or not…

 _~~The scars of your love remind me of us  
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all  
he scars of your love, they leave me breathless  
I can't help feeling~~_

"Let's hope for your sake that you two _were_ as close as they said," the madman murmured, not pausing in his pacing or peering out of the windows to look at her. That maniac who had captured her because she was supposed to able to put him in touch with Michael Westen hadn't spoken directly to her since he'd tapped her awake with the side of his straight razor, _thank God it was the side_ , under an hour ago.

" _I haven't seen him in almost a year. He disappeared after his last run in with the government."_

If her abductor had been so damned smart, he would have known that Michael had abandoned her for a mission months ago and they'd had no contact at all since. _I needed to protect you. I needed to protect all of us._ Yes, she was so much safer now because of his protection _, ta oh so much for that, Michael_ …

" _Ah, ah, ah, don't lie to me. If I wanted a CIA cover story, I would ask for it."_

How she had wished that it had only been one of their damned cover stories. Her declaration she wasn't lying had earned her a backhand that hadn't stung nearly as much as the truth that she _truly didn't know_ where he was, even if she had suspected he was in Miami somewhere.

" _I don't know where he is…"_ How many times over the years had that been true since he'd left the first time over a decade ago? And now not knowing could kill her literally instead of just metaphorically _._

" _You're lucky I don't believe you."_ With his fist buried in her hair at the base of her skull and his face so close Fiona could smell the fear coming off the fugitive, she had gambled for her life.

Telling her captor that Sam Axe could reach Michael had been her best ploy at the time. The ex-SEAL was her only hope to keep breathing for the next hour. _After that…?_ She had refused to speculate at first on the possibility of whether or not the man would be able to reach his best friend. But as the minutes dragged on, she couldn't keep her mind off the dark haired spy who once had her heart.

 _~~We could have had it all~~_

" _You ran away in the middle of the night for my benefit?"_

 _~~Rolling in the deep~~_

" _You left, Michael. You had a choice to make and you made it. I always thought, maybe, when it came down to it that- but you didn't…"_

 _~~You had my heart inside of your hand~~_

" _So, no, getting back in isn't just a way to survive or to protect the people I love. It's what I want. And if you truly care about me, you should damn well want for me what I want for myself. "_

 _~~And you played it, to the beat~~_

" _This isn't about one fight, Michael. If you didn't see this coming, you weren't paying attention. You're too worried about your own future for there to be one for us."_

 _~~We could have had it all~~_

" _Maybe this isn't your fight, Fi. Just because it's my path doesn't mean it's yours."_

 _~~Rolling in the deep~~_

 _It's a new job, Fi, but it's not a new life. I like my life and I want to live it with you._

 _~~You had my heart inside of your hand~~_

" _I need a rest as much as you do, Fi, believe me."_

 _~~But you played it, with a beating~~_

" _I couldn't leave you in there forever. They weren't just gonna forget everything that happened and release you. So I made a deal."_

So she'd been contemplating the bitter irony that Michael had left her again and again, starting in Ireland and ending in a secret CIA black site prison, in order to save her life, or so he'd said, and now she just might die because of his absence and her ignorance of his whereabouts when the phone buzzed.

"You're cutting it close, Mr. Axe…"

The former guerilla looked about, frustrated that while her kidnapper had unobstructed views of everything, she couldn't see and could barely hearing anything. She hoped Sam would somehow be able to clue her in and she kicked herself again for ignoring the warning signs that had gotten by her.

"Who is this?" Gamble demanded. _That caught her attention_. "Westen…?"

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his name as the agitated man went to look out the boarded up windows. "They said you weren't in Miami." She could almost make out Michael's snarky reply, the garbled sound of his voice after almost of year's absence was enough to put all her senses on high alert.

"Stop right there, Westen. Turn around and take off the vest."

 _So she had been right! That had been Michael saving them at the derelict body shop_. _Why the hell hadn't he just let them know what was going on? Whot tha feck wa' he playing at wit' thar lives?_

"Oh good, we're on the same page then."

While she listened to the two men verbally sparring over the terms and conditions that were going to allow her to live, Fiona couldn't calm the conflict in her very soul. Her so-called white knight had come riding to rescue her and yet he was the very reason she was in the dragon's den in the first place.

 _~~Throw your soul through every open door  
Count your blessings to find what you look for~~_

"You get ten seconds of quality time, Westen. Make it count."

It was a blessing to finally be freed of that damned gag. Being able to keep her voice from betraying the emotions broiling within her would be almost too much to ask. _But she was a Glenanne, dammit!_

"Fi…"

That one softly spoken syllable caressed her ears like sweet velvet, but she refused to allow it to influence her. She needed to keep her head on straight if she going to get out of this mess in one piece.

"I'm here, Michael." _Here because of you, you know that, right? Yer tha reason thot all this happened, everything thot's happened over tha last year…._

"I'm going to get you home."

She couldn't stop the sound that comment pulled from her, her mind jumping from the destruction she'd wreaked on their rundown little flat in Belfast to images of fire engulfing the loft, and she'd dropped her head, lest the fugitive see what was on her mind _… on her heart._

"And Fiona?..." She hated that she was waiting breathlessly to hear what he was going to say next.

"Tis time ta be brave, little angel."

 _~~Turn my sorrow into treasured gold  
You'll pay me back in kind and reap just what you sow~~_

The former terrorist looked up at the phone, faintly hearing glass breaking in the distance.

" _I suppose it wa' a code o' sorts…. Whot it really meant wa' get down on tha floor, close yar eyes an' start praying til tis over."_

Making eye contact for the last time with the operative who had taken her, Fiona jerked hard and sent herself and the chair crashing to the dirty floor. As the shots began to fly through the walls, she closed her eyes tightly and prayed if it was her fate to die today a bullet ridden corpse, which had always been a distinct possibility given her upbringing and occupation, that it was over quickly.

 _~~We could have had it all  
We could have had it all  
It all, it all, it all~~  
_

As she lay there, still bound to the chair, staring at the ceiling, hearing the thunder of boots coming her direction, Fiona knew she was going to have to confront the outcome of the choices she had made this past year. _Michael McBride had shown up from her past to save her present, but what was the future going to hold?_ Or was she really confronting _her_ choices or having to deal with the fallout from _his_?

~~We could have had it all~~

" _Michael, we were gonna get out. In Panama, you said that we were done with all this. You said it would just be us."_

 _~~Rolling in the deep~~_

As she exited the building surrounded by a quartet from the SRT, a lone female figure in a small sea of uniforms, she saw him there. Oddly the first thing she noticed was the color of his shirt, the strange shade of pink that was nothing like anything she'd ever seen him wear, and then the wholly disheveled condition of his clothing and near lack of personal grooming. The beard was a scruffy mess, though his hair had been trimmed albeit badly. But the light of hope shining in his eyes was a knife in her gut.

 _~~You had my heart inside of your hand~~_

 _It's the only home we've shared._

 _It won't be the last._

Then the Irishwoman saw Carlos running towards her and she let herself focus on him alone, falling into his arms and closing her eyes as the man who'd been there for her every day since the day that Michael Westen had burned all her dreams to ashes began to kiss her, relief pouring out of the younger man.

 _~~And you played it to the beat~~_

She buried herself in her new lover's embrace because she knew as soon as she saw him that she did still love Michael, there was no denying it. But she also knew down to her soul that although he'd always be there for the grand gesture, Michael Westen was never going to show up for day to day life.

" _D'ya think tha new man in yar life will be so understandin'?"_

And if she had chosen to bury herself in her old lover's embrace, no matter how sweet that moment would have been, Michael McBride would be gone again, just like that cold morning in Dublin, just like that humid afternoon in wherever the hell they'd been holding them, and Michael Westen would offer her an apologetic smile and assure her that as soon as it was over they could be together _again…_

And then he'd be gone…

 _~~We could have had it all  
Rolling in the deep  
You had my heart inside of your hand~~_

Carlos had gone to bring the car around, but had insisted she get the slashes on her arm treated. All she had wanted to do was leave and Fiona hated herself for wanting to run away. _Glenannes dinnae run. They confronted it head on with o' block o' C4 or some hot lead._ But where she was bleeding from once more, the wound that had never really closed was not going to be treated as easily as those tiny cuts.

But it had been too late to retreat.

"Hello Michael."

"You okay?"

"It's just a few stitches…. the glass in the windows. It could have been worse."

But she wasn't standing in front of an ambulance anymore in the Miami humidity. _She was sitting in the Braeside Inn, facing the man she taken away with her on her first mission for PIRA to infiltrate the Real IRA, trusting him with her life and her heart, as she'd let down her walls and they had made love_.

"You remembered my story…?"

"I'd never forget it."

She smiled at him tentatively and his answering smile was full of that same hope that had always made him unstoppable. Once he firmly got his sights on something, he would never let it go until it was done.

" _He escaped prison and traveled a few thousand miles to get her back. That should count for something."_

" _Grand gestures are great. Sometimes I think it's the day to day stuff that's the hard work."_

" _You know who I am, Fi. I'm not—"_

" _Yeah, I know."_

Yes, she knew who he was and the sad fact was whether they loved each other was irrelevant because he would always love the game more than her, _always had, always would_. As he breathed her name on a sigh, _the way would melt her heart in a moment_ , and started to come towards her, another memory of their time together in Ireland surfaced and she moved towards him before he could raise his arms.

" _Who's the girl?"_

" _Fiona Glenanne… believe me, lad, ya wonnae be wanting any o' thot. Besides she's taken."_

 _~~But you played it  
You played it~~_

She'd heard the exchange between the handsome young man whose lively eyes had been on her the whole evening while she'd passed her recruitment test into the Real IRA. If she hadn't had PIRA business on her mind that evening, she might have indulged her curiosity. She'd seen him hanging about in her brother Sean's crowd of cohorts before and knew he'd been watching her for a while.

But as she'd walked up to that rebel organization's talent spotter and brushed her lips over his cheek to say that _yes, she was as good as her reputation and more_ , she knew what the bartender mistakenly thought about the two of them and she'd heard what the brash Irishman had answered in return.

" _Taken…? Ya see thot? Thot's tha kiss ya give when tis over."_

And with her heart breaking so she could assure that it would be broken no more, Fiona met him _before he could mold himself around her as he had done thousands of times already_ , brushed her lips past his scruffy cheek, _trying so hard not to be affect by his proximity, his warmth, his scent_ , and whispered into his ear, "Take care…" because she did wish him well and _because I love you could never be said again_.

 _~~You played it  
You played it to the beat~~_


End file.
